Star Crossed
by Ran Mouri
Summary: NOW COMPLETE In a desperate attempt to recover his son, Harry goes to therapy with Scorpius Malfoy, and ends up meeting the tale of his life's obsessions and the ones before this SLASH HP/DM
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a story I wrote for bottom!Draco community at LJ. Hope you guys don't mind. And if someone is asking, my dearest friend, Mistress of the Spoils helped me out and provided this lovely plot.  
**

**Star Crossed  
**

**By Ran Mouri**

If Harry had to choose the moment his world came tumbling from its usual, comfortable, if not a little dull dynamics, into utter and complete chaos, he would have chose the moment he heard the six condemning words of doom:

"Dad, this is Scorpius, my boyfriend."

If someone had told him he would have heard those words. Harry would have laughed it off, and maybe, just maybe, regarded it as an April's Fool prank from his youngest daughter. Lilly, the only non Gryffindor from his family, had a naughty streak the size of the Forbidden Forest and liked, more than anything, to watch her family members squirm under her pranks.

He liked to think his daughter got her sense of humor from the late Fred Weasley. His wife, however, thought it suited her daughter's unfortunate Slytherin surroundings.

However the case, the moment Harry heard the six condemning words of doom, it was not his daughter pranking him. It wasn't April, either.

It was his youngest son, Albus, who had his arms possessively wrapped around the aforementioned blond boy.

It was during his son's seventh year at Hogwarts.

Harry gapped at both boys for almost half an hour before he started laughing, wondering how on earth had Albus gotten some of the Malfoy brat's hair to polyjuice his sister into posing as him. Then Lilly came into the room, stared at them and decided to sit down and enjoy the show.

Scorpius had looked up at Albus and kissed his cheek before announcing he was leaving, that his father was not feeling very well and that he should go see him.

As soon as he was gone Albus explained that the blond boy wanted to become a Psychomagus, sort of a Magical Psychologist, and as such, the first thing he had discovered, was that his animosity towards Albus was not the usual Gryffindor – Slytherin, Potter – Malfoy rivalry. He was morbidly attracted to Albus Severus Potter.

And of course, being Scorpius Malfoy, he had just walked up to Albus and told him so.

It had taken them two weeks for Albus to confess the same feelings and exactly twenty four seconds (Lilly had counted them) to fall into bed together.

Harry paled.

Albus kept his eyes fixed on his shoes.

Lilly snapped a holopicture.

The scream had roused James from his studies and Ginny from her nap and Harry felt he had made his point. Of course, knowing himself as he did, he should have stopped and listened to his children as they argued to him about how in love Scorpius and Albus were, and how they complimented each other.

While the only thing in his mind was that the brat was the exact replica of his father.

And could not be trusted.

Of course, all these led to him saying the incredibly damnable eleven words:

"While you live under MY roof you won't see that boy!"

Albus had damned the whole family with only one word of his own.

"FINE!"

And had then taken everything from his room, shrinked it into his trunk, and left.

He would never come back to Grimauld Place.

And of course, the 'I'm sorry I caused this' basket Scorpius sent made it all worst. The little bastard must have known it would be mocking him for years.

The family had not been the same without Albus there.

Lilly graduated and left as well, claiming there was something out there she had to find in order to relax.

James came home every weekend, but without his brother and sister around he felt awkward.

Ginny said there was something wrong with Harry, something that had always been there, but only now she could see. She sent him for some therapy.

Which was the whole reason he was standing by the opulent white door in the middle of London with the engraved "_Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy – Psychomagus_" in elegant gold letters and the soft wind chime strapped to the door handle.

It had been Hermione's idea, actually. Should Albus see him supporting his relationship and accepting Scorpius as a professional, he would be able to make peace with his family.

Harry sighed and knocked on the door. The wind chime announced his presence.

Albus opened the door.

"… Dad?" he asked. Harry grinned sheepishly. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, is Dr. Malfoy in?" he answered, scratching the back of his head. "I have an appointment."

The smile that stretched onto Albus' lips. Shy, hesitant but still wide enough for Harry to see his little boy on the grown man's face, was enough to convince him it had been a good idea.

Scorpius Malfoy's office was elegant and austere. Instead of couches and tables the young man had over-stuffed pillows and mats. Harry guessed it was normal for Psychomagus and that he wouldn't be talking about his childhood in a recliner like in the movies.

Albus stood proudly by a small desk.

"I'm so glad you came, Dad. Scorpius is the best there is, I think you'll benefit so much from this!" he spoke with such conviction that Harry didn't have the heart to tell him Ginny had forced him to seek therapy and that Hermione suggested Scorpius.

He didn't even know what was so supposedly wrong with him. Still he told Scorpius all he could think of, when the boy entered the room.

"If you ask me, Mr. Potter, I would say your wife is projecting onto you," Scorpius said as he motioned Harry to sit on a cushion. Albus had disappeared into another office as soon as the wind chime called again, and Harry was relieved to see him go. He didn't want to discuss anything that was affecting his marriage in front of his son.

Malfoy served him tea.

"What do you mean, projecting?" Harry asked, sipping his tea.

"Some people, specially the ones that had a special treatment during their childhood, tend to grow up with the idea that they are too special, too unique, therefore, any flaw in their logic must be eradicated. Their minds, of course, would try to erase any trace of flaw or fault they can, just to keep stability. Therefore, should there exist any flaw too great to be ignored, it has to go somewhere. In the end they project the same flaw they know to have towards their closest relation, so to be aware of it but not responsible."

"You mean the problem's hers, but she won't accept she has a problem, so she basically makes herself believe I'm the one with the problem?" he asked, frowning.

Scorpius nodded.

"Mrs. Potter has always been treated differently, like something precious, therefore she developed this condition," he said. "Of course, do keep in mind this is not actually her fault, she must not be even aware of what she is doing."

It actually made sense. Since Ginny had been the only daughter in a house with six other boys, of course she had been special, she had been the little princess. It explained, of course, why she was so confident and extroverted. She was the Weasley Queen.

Then…

The thought came out of Harry's mind before he could even think about it.

"Kind of like your father, huh?" he said absently. Then, realizing his mistake, he had covered his mouth with both hands. "I'm sorry, Scorpius," he mumbled.

Scorpius looked unfazed.

"Don't be," he said softly. "Assuming my father projected as well would be a natural deduction, however incorrect." He sighed. "Father is a complex mixture of nature, nurture and astral trauma. He was actually my thesis while I graduated."

Harry blinked.

"I get the Nature and Nurture part, but… astral… trauma?" he asked. Scorpius smiled and nodded.

"Well, some people carry their own sort of trauma through their stay on this plane of existence, be it on this life of the next one or the one after that," he explained. "Father had a passing so traumatic and repetitively so, that he had many issues regarding social interaction and trust." The young man shrugged. "He even has the inverted star to prove of his passing."

"Uh?" Harry wasn't so sure why this conversation was more interesting that discussing why his wife was a spoiled little bitch, but it was. Even if it was about Malfoy. "Inverted Star?"

Scorpius took out his wand and drew an inverted black star on the air.

"Inverted Star," he said. "Each spike represents a trauma suffered through past lives, when trauma cannot be ignored anymore and has lead to a last traumatic death, all spikes come together and form a star, see?"

Harry blushed a little, almost as if what he was about to say next could destroy his thin hold of a family.

"I think then, that I can make your job pretty easy," he mumbled, unbuttoning his shirt. "I mean, instead of going through present traumas and me crying my eyes out."

Scorpius' eyes widened as he stared at the black inverted star on Mr. Potter's collarbone. Anyone else might have mistaken it for a mole, maybe a scar of some sort, but he was a professional, and he could not be mistaken.

"Interesting," he said, putting on his glasses. "5 spikes, quite an interesting journey you've had Mr. Potter. Almost as many as father."

Harry frowned.

"How many spikes did Malfoy's have?"

Scorpius grinned.

"Thirteen, and all proudly treated, he kept the star, though, as a reminder."

"Ok, how do you treat this?"

The blond boy grinned and handed Harry some pieces of parchment.

"First of all you sign here and here, it's only a formality stating that you won't sue me should you find your past lives… unpleasant, many customers imagine themselves kings or heroes and are tend to get angry when they see themselves as prostitutes dying horrible deaths during a plague."

Harry signed dutifully. He had already been told his past lives were horrible and had traumatized him, he didn't have any high expectation.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I need to you call two anchors, people that will travel with you through your past experiences and will help you keep hold of your current life. Choose two companions, people you can trust implicitly and know you can fall back to."

Harry nodded; already sure Ron and Hermione could come with him for this.

"I'll leave you alone with the floo so you can call them. Meanwhile I'll fix the pentagram and cancel all appointments for the afternoon."

"Takes that long?" Harry asked. Scorpius nodded.

"Each time you review one of your traumas you will float in limbo and you will get an hour to review and come to terms with what happened, you need your anchors for that too," he said, filing the parchment with Harry's permission.

Albus came into the room as soon as Hermione and Ron came. All three of them looked worried.

"Are you sure you want to go through this, Dad? It's rather traumatic in itself, you might see something you'd be better not knowing," the boy asked his father. Harry grinned nervously at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, I've been through worst, and Malfoy could do it. Why shouldn't I?"

Albus frowned at the obvious dip at his father in law, but kept quiet.

"I'll monitor with Scorpius, just in case," he mumbled. "While you might see yourself and your friends as you used to we will see the people you are now."

"I'm glad you decided to do this, Harry, I've read several books about this treatment and-" Hermione said as she embraced her best friend. Ron snorted.

"Please stop her Harry, she's been driving me crazy over your stupid star! As if you didn't have enough weird markings already."

Harry smiled and punched his best friend on the shoulder, then turned to Hermione.

"Herm, come on, lay off him for a while," he laughed.

Scorpius peered into the room, his face flushed with excitement.

"If you are ready, Mr. Potter. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," he muttered, leading them into a wide bare room. There was not a single piece of furniture to sit or rest on it. And Harry wondered how were the boys going to endure seven whole hours?

"Please stand on the star," Albus requested, signaling to three separate pentagrams on the white marble floor. "Remove your shoes and anything magical that might interfere with the process."

Hermione and Ron dropped their wands and took off their shoes. Harry did the same and then took off his wedding ring. Unlike Hermione and Ron, who believed in their vows, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had insisted on wizarding rings that would alert the spouse of the wearer when said wearer removed the ring.

Most likely Ginny would be calling Hermione soon.

Albus grinned at his dad.

"Good luck, old man!" he beamed, waving. Harry grinned back.

"I'll get you when this is over, you brat," he mock growled. It felt good to have his little boy back.

Scorpius lit several candles and waved his wand.

All three pentagrams started glowing.

"Prepare yourselves, the first one is usually the most difficult," he warned them before Harry felt the usual pull of his navel that in his mind meant portkey. However this time, his body did not disappear.

"Amazing!" gasped as she started floating in her place. Ron sighed.

"Get ready!" yelled Albus.

Harry, Hermione and Ron closed their eyes as their minds blanked on them.

Everything became dark.

_--- _

_Marcus Leontius was woken from his slumber by his best friend and companion, Quirinus Germanicus. He growled low on his throat and took his sword, ready to beat the bastard into oblivion. _

_"Don't take it on me," Quirinus laughed. "Commander wants you to see this, he said you'd be pleased." _

_Marcus stared at his friend for a moment before standing up. All bones in his body protested. He glared coldly at the other man. _

_"This better be good or you'll be kissing mighty Pluto's arse by dinnertime."_

_Quirinus only grinned. _

_As soon as they came out of the hut, Marcus could hear the screaming and banging that usually meant the raid had been successful. He scowled. _

_Commander had left him in town again. The old man thought he was too rough on the prisoners. _

_"Ah, Marcus Leontius, come over here!" said the commander, his big belly shaking as he laughed. Marcus Leontius obeyed, his eyes narrowed. _

_In front of the soldiers were a group of prisoners or spoils of war most likely. From their red hair and fierce blue eyes, Marcus Leontius could tell the little things were Pict. Just another group of barbarians. _

_"Want to take your pick first, Marcus Leontius?" the commander asked, his eyes glinting. "I know you hate it when we leave you behind. Take it as your reward for our last campaign."_

_Marcus Leontius eyed the group without much interest, skinny women with muscled arms, most likely warrior women. He scoffed. Sending their women to fight, what a laughable tribe. _

_He was about to turn to his commander and tell him he'd rather use the spares as targets when he spotted fiery eyes glaring at him. Those eyes were silver in color and, unlike his comrades cowering before their conquerors, this barbarian held his head high, a sneer curling his lips. _

_Marcus smirked. _

_"That one," he said. "The proud one."_

_The commander looked at Marcus with a raised eyebrow. _

_"The Prince, you mean?" he asked. Marcus raised an eyebrow in return. _

_"Prince huh?" _

_"That's what the old one was muttering when we entered their defenses," the commander shrugged. Marcus stared at the supposed prince, his eyes trailing over every inch of naked skin. _

_He loved barbarians, really. _

_The women started growling at him the moment he seized the prince by the arm. Some even muttered what sounded like threats to him. Then the prince stared at him, and turned to his people, barking orders with a voice that, Marcus thought, was hard to believe was contained in such a small frame._

_All warriors calmed at once. _

_"Impressive, little one," he grinned, taking the barbarian's chin by force and staring into those amazing silver eyes. So bright, so very pretty. _

_The Commander then, approached the tied warriors and women, a blond interpreter following faithfully. _

_"Tell these animals that they will be obedient if they want their prince to be safe," the Commander snapped. The blond complied hurriedly, and Marcus knew the Pict were loyal to a fault when they all lowered their heads in deference to the Roman army instead of rising in protest, much to his new pet's horror. _

_"Hey, you!" Marcus yelled to the interpreter. "What is this one saying?" With a bored hand he pointed towards his new red haired pet, who was currently yelling at his tribe. _

_The blond slave shivered, reluctant, before lowering his eyes. _

_"He is trying to order his people into attacking," he answered softly. "He says his life is not important." _

_Marcus stared at the frantic prince who, despite having his hands tied behind his back and a leather leash on his neck, kept his determination. _

_He laughed. _

_"Come here, pretty thing," he said pulling onto the rope and dragging his new toy towards his hut. Now he decided that stationing the troops in this little hell hole of a town while small legions went around capturing the barbarians was a delightful idea. He wouldn't have had as much fun as he would in an uncomfortable tent. "You and I will have lots of fun together."_

_"Marcus Leontius!" called Quirinus. "Remember we depart from __Rome__ tomorrow morning!" _

_"Not a problem!" he answered, waving a hand. The prince stumbled behind him. _

_"Wha…" Marcus turned to stare as those silver eyes glared at him. The same small but powerful voice tried to articulate words in their own language. _

_"What?" he asked as he secured the bindings around his pet's neck. _

_"Wha… do yoo won frum my," the young prince growled. _

_"My, aren't you a smart little thing," Marcus laughed out loud. "And don't worry, you pretty thing, you'll soon find out what I want from you." _

_Slowly, the Roman walked back to a nearby table and grabbed a goblet, downing the wine on it. All the while, the boy kept staring at him with those amazing eyes. _

_He eyed him consciously, now that he could finally relax. _

_The prince was small, that much was obvious. Some of the women in his tribe were taller than him. Yet, they respected his ability. He was also a lot younger than Marcus Leontius himself. Maybe around fifteen. _

_How could he gain the trust and loyalty of his people being that vulnerable? _

_Every single Pict in the group cowered before the boy, and they all lowered their heads in penance at the thought of putting their prince in harm's way. _

_"You sure are special, brat," he mumbled, getting more wine for himself. The boy glared at him, silent, his head held high and his coppery locks caressing his skin as he sneered. _

_"Yoo vill dye," he growled. "Yoo vill dye be my hund." _

_Marcus Leontius grinned. _

_"Oh, really?" he mocked, taking some of the prince's locks in his hand and bringing them to his nose. He smelled of sweat and forest and battle, something so completely intoxicating. "I'll die by your hand, pretty one? I'd like to see you try. But first, I don't think I can keep calling you 'pretty thing' as pretty as you are, so I want your name."_

_"Dye," the boy growled, tugging at his bindings. _

_"Last chance, boy, I'm not a patient man and I already got you understand what I'm saying," he mocked, letting his fingers run over the boy's naked shoulder. Sweet Venus, he was so soft. Not even the eight spiked black star contrasting on the alabaster skin of his arm was off-putting. "Tell me your name, my little pet." _

_His only response was a snarl and the boy's spit on his cheek. _

_Feisty little barbarian._

_Just like Marcus Leontius liked them._

_With a bruising grip, he took hold of the boy's leg and dragged him towards his cot. His smirk widening at the pained yelp the boy let out as he landed on his hands and knees before the bed. _

_Colorful curses came out of the boy's mouth, all in his strange and musical language, none Marcus could understand. Although, his tone was more than necessary to get he was been insulted. _

_He huffed and pulled the boy upwards by his waist, noticing how thin his bones were. He could easily snap them with his hands. _

_His eyes locked with the prince's. The smile in his mouth twisted. _

_"You will tell me your name and then I'll reward you," he said slowly, making sure the barbarian understood before bringing his palm down flat onto the boy's soft bottom. _

_Hard._

_The boy cried out, then looked at him over his shoulder and shook his head, making sure to bite his lips and ready himself for the next blow. Marcus Leontius grinned. _

_"Though, huh? Too bad I'm not into tough kids," he mocked, slapping the rapidly reddening skin a second time. This time, though, the prince didn't utter a single sound. _

_He frowned. _

_The third slap was forceful, meant to hurt. _

_So were the fourth, fifth and sixth. _

_Little tears prickled the prince's eyes as he received the seventh, eighth and ninth blows. And a small gasp betrayed him by the time the twelfth whack racked his small frame. _

_The red skin was so hot under Marcus Leontius' hand, and still maintained the softness. This boy was no a warrior, at least not in the conventional sense. Then that mean that his tribe was not really Pict. _

_He grinned, imagining the real jewel he had on his lap. Gently submitting to his every desire, even without realizing it, as his soft and tender thigh rubbed constantly against the soldier's generous erection. _

_Taking this boy would be paradise. _

_But he wouldn't do it without making sure the prince knew his place. _

_And that would come with the first and most important submission of all. _

_"Tell me your name!" Marcus growled, his hand pinching the tender skin under his palm and kneading it roughly. The boy shivered but shook his head. _

_"Na!" he cried as the slaps moved down his thighs. He was almost ready to break, Marcus knew, the tears running down his cheeks and the sweat soaking his skin had washed out almost all the ceremonial paint the boy had on him. And the way his body trembled in fright at every single slap told the Roman his prey had not been made for humiliation or pain. _

_This vulnerable rabbit was not a warrior then._

_How perfect. _

_"YOUR NAME!" he yelled, sneaking a finger between the clenched ass cheeks. _

_The boy's eyes widened suddenly, his muscles tensing._

_"CAEDYRN!" he yelled suddenly, terrified silver eyes turning to him. "Caedyrn!"_

_The slaps stopped._

_"Caedyrn, huh?" he asked amused. _

_The boy, Caedyrn, slumped in defeat. His whole body shaking. _

_Marcus Leontius smiled benevolently. He would teach this boy to welcome his touch, soon. He would make this little prince, his vulnerable little Caedyrn, into his own perfect toy. _

_"Marcus Leontius!" Quirinus called suddenly, knocking on the door. "AN AMBUSH!! HURRY!" _

_The man growled, just when he needed it. _

_With tenderness he would have never admitted of having he took the spent prince into his arms and lowered him slowly to the cot, covering his shivering form with a cloak. _

_"Sleep now, Caedyrn," he whispered, kissing the boy's lips and savoring his unique scent. "You'll need it." _

_The boy sobbed into his mouth, his eyes tightly shut. _

_"I'll be back as soon as I can, don't move," he ordered, eyes narrowing as he left the hut. He would kill some more barbarians, maybe even get some pretty little friend for Caedyrn to play with. _

_Not that he thought another of those animals would compare to his precious toy. _

_Goddess, he couldn't wait to touch him. _

_--- _

_Caedyrn laid in bed for a few moments, still shuddering in pain and shame. _

_He had surrendered, if only a little to the foreign bastard. He had given him something as sacred as his name. He would never be able to go back to his people now. _

_If any of them were alive anyway. _

_With shaky hands he removed the cloak over him and stared at his surroundings. The hut was sparsely furnished, but some marks around the walls and the floor told the young prince this house used to belong to someone else. A family, most likely. _

_Still shaking, he tried to move, only to have the leather leash biting into the skin of his neck. He gasped out loud, covering his neck with both hands in a vain attempt to sooth the pain. Then he realized something. _

_His hands were stained in red. _

_But they also had found an arrow head stabbed into the hard leather. Most likely his captor hadn't noticed it. _

_But he could tell immediately from staring at the hard stone edges to whom it had belonged to. _

_"Mother," he whispered, kissing it. "Thank you."_

_With skill unbelievable for someone as skinny or small as him, he took out the arrow head, careful not to cut himself further he cut the leather leash attached to his neck and then the ropes binding his hands together. His legs kept shaking and protesting in pain, but he realized that whatever tribe was ambushing the Romans, he had little time to run before they went back. _

_Suddenly a pale hand opened his door. _

_Caedyrn was at the intruder in a second, pushing his small weapon towards his neck. _

_Then his silver eyes widened as he recognized the blond slave the Romans had with them. The one that translated for them. _

_"You traitor!" he hissed. The blond slave lowered his eyes in shame for a second before locking gazes with him reverently. _

_"Prince, you need to get out of here!" he hissed back, enveloping the shivering body with a dark cloak. "The invaders are busy with the Iseny, but they won't last long. All the other sons of the God Patter have been annihilated, your majesty! So all tribes have united to help your escape!"_

_Prince Caedyrn stared in shock. _

_All of his brothers, the one in Holy Communion with the gods… were dead?_

_"Once I leave all of you will be endangered," he whispered, entangling his fingers with the tall blond slave's. "Come with me." _

_The blond man's blue eyes widened. _

_"I couldn't presume…" he muttered, his eyes downcast. _

_"That's an order," the prince growled, his eyes fierce. The blond slave nodded, still looking down, but a small smile filtered through his lips. _

_"As your highness wishes," he answered before taking all the food and wine he could carry and stuffed them into a leather bag. "I swear upon my life and my passing on this world, your majesty, I shall protect your happiness." _

_The prince nodded slowly before taking a jar of water and dropping it onto the floor and muttering some words into the ancient language of the gods. He would leave a curse upon the foreign monster who had been stupid enough to give him his own name. _

_The whole hut glowed a pale green before setting, almost as if nothing had happened. _

_The blond slave took hold of his new master's shoulders and led him outside. They had very few minutes to make a run for it and reach the boat the others had stolen. _

_It was their only chance. _

_---_

_Almost three hours later, as Marcus Leontius crossed the doorway into his hut, the curse activated and he, unknowingly felt the difference. The hut was eerily quiet and most of his food was missing. _

_With haste, he pulled his cloak from the cot only to find it empty. _

_Prince Caedyrn had escaped. _

_His eyes widened even when a frown pulled his face in distaste. _

_The little bastard thought he could run away from him. It wasn't going to happen. _

_"QUIRINUS!" he yelled, running out of his hut. _

_He found the other man cleaning his sword, a satisfied smile on his face turning into a confused frown as he saw his friend. _

_"What's wrong with you Marcus Leontius?" he asked. The other soldier grabbed him by the arm. _

_"Caedyrn escaped!" he roared, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Quirinus blinked. _

_"Who?" he asked. _

_"My pet!" _

_The smaller soldier sighed, already understanding what his friend wanted. _

_"Let's mount then and follow him, he can't be that far," he said, raising his sword with glee. _

_Marcus Leontius grinned, his blood pumping in his ears. He would show the little prince what he would do to him when he was re-captured. He would show him that his place from now on was by his side. _

_"Just wait and see, Caedyrn," he muttered as he saddled his horse. "You are mine!" _

_Quirinus Germanicus stared over his shoulder at his best friend and companion as he mounted his horse and sped away. He had never seen the other man so angry, the way his face was flushed a purplish color, his nostrils flared and his eyes sparkled. _

_He couldn't understand why the sudden fixation with a pet he had nearly known for some hours. _

_Silently he thought of his little Ainia, waiting for him back at __Rome__, and sent a prayer to all the gods so the young prince escaped safely. He didn't want to know what would happen to the lad should Marcus Leontius find him. _

_Little did they know that both Caedyrn and his companion were safely sailing away as they spoke, away to never be seen by Roman again. _

----------

Hermione and Ron woke up from their daydream with a start, floating among the nothingness that was the spell with worried eyes and hands that refused to let go of the other.

"That was horrible," muttered Hermione, shaking her head. "That I stood and… allowed that to happen!"

Ron looked at her, his face full of confusion.

"Where's Harry?" he asked. Both blinked, looking around for their missing friend. The nothingness that spread around them was suffocating and thick, most likely Harry had gotten lost in its oppressiveness.

"There he is!" said Hermione, floating towards the huddled figure among shadows. "Harry!"

Both, Ron and Hermione stood silently as their best friend threw up everything he might have eaten that day. His eyes were wide and fat tears rolled down his cheeks with each heaving convulsion.

"Hey, mate," soother Ron, patting the other man on the back. "It's ok. It's over."

"It's… not ok," whimpered Harry. "All the things I did. The people I hurt!"

Ron looked at Hermione for answers but her eyes were dull, as if she was reliving the horrors Harry described.

"What do you mean?" he asked finally. "Who were you? I remember seeing Hermione but most of the time I was back home cooking and taking care of the children while Quirinus…" he fell silent suddenly.

"Remember my friend Marcus, Ron?" Hermione asked, her eyes sad.

Ron nodded.

"Yeah, you told me about it, the one who went mad after he lost as slave and ended up pulling out the eyes out of his enemies…" he said.

"… because none of them had the correct eye color," whimpered Harry, fisting his hands on his hair. "Because no one was as beautiful as my Caedyrn."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered, wrapping both arms around him. Trying to comfort his tortured psyche. "He was a wizard, one of the first, of course he would have looked special to you."

"Yet, I hurt him," he sobbed. "I hurt him and spent the rest of my life chasing after him, just so I could hurt him again. I was a monster, Hermione."

"Yes, but now you feel repulsion at your acts, Harry," she said softly. "You've learnt about pain and suffering, you are a better person now."

Harry nodded miserably, he could see the logic behind her words. Had he not felt bad about what he had done, he would have been as bad as he was then.

He was a better man now.

Ron sighed, and wrapped his arms around his wife and his best friend.

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter,"_ Scorpius' voice cut through the haze. _"But your journey must continue, four other stops await you." _

Harry shook his head for a while, afraid of what he might see, but then he looked at Hermione and Ron, his best friends.

Even if he'd been a horrible monster, they were still by his side.

He would not lose them.

He nodded.

"Take us there, Scorpius," he whispered, closing his eyes.

The shadows swallowed them once more.

**To be Continued. **


	2. Chapter 2

_Kyousuke woke up with a start and slowly got up from his futon. It was late at night, he knew, but the nightmares kept plaguing his sleep with hideous images of his own doing. _

_Specially those bright silver eyes, endlessly mocking his every step. The way they danced before him but always skipped away when he reached out his hand._

_He growled, low on his throat, his eyes set on the small lake by the house. _

_He hated those eyes for their beauty, and at the same time he loved them for their intensity. _

_"Kyousuke-sama," called a soft voice. The man turned to regard his petit wife. Hanako was a good woman, obedient to a fault and so beautiful. "Aren't you coming to bed?" _

_The man shook his head, ebony locks caressing his forehead. _

_"The spirits are waiting for me in my dreams," he whispered, kissing his wife's hand politely. "They won't let me rest. He won't let me rest." _

_Hanako stared at him for a second, her coal black eyes worried. _

_"Perhaps we should look for help, my lord," she said finally, her cheeks flushed. "An onmyouji?" _

_Kyousuke kept silent once more, his eyes set onto his wife's own. _

_Her eyes were the only feature of her he didn't like. Had he a choice he would have chose to marry Mimasaka-san, who lived far south from them. Though he knew Mimasaka-san wasn't as talented or virtuous as Hanako, at least her eyes were a clear grey that under the correct light would sparkle silver. _

_He frowned. _

_Hanako would never understand what he was going through, her black eyes would never compare to his personal demon's. _

_Yes, the silver eyed beauty that danced before him in his dreams would forever be the holder of his heart. The way his long hair caressed his naked skin, and those eyes sparkling with glee, tempting him, calling out the siren call. _

**_"Come to me,"_**_ they seemed to say. **"Come to me and let's be together forever in this kingdom of you and I." **_

_And Kyousuke wanted to. _

_So very badly. _

_He wanted to tangle his hands into those locks and bury himself into that devil who tempted his whole body with just laughter and music. _

_Every time he reached out in his dreams, mindless of all danger or instincts, ready to wrap his arms around the small waist, pale hands got in his way, and playful silver eyes mocked him. _

**_"Say my name and own me,"_**_ a singing voice laughed. **"If not, let me go."**_

_Kyousuke had tried all the names he knew, of course. The sole idea of owning that beautiful creature had inflamed his desire beyond belief. _

_Yet, every night the beautiful man shook his head and laughed, dancing around him, teasing his senses, before disappearing into thin air. _

_Kyousuke would wake up, soaking in cold sweat; stare at his wife's sleeping body by his side, and roll away from her. _

_She would open her eyes, should he try anything. And whatever desire he felt for her would vanish with the fluttering movement of her eyelashes. _

_"Go to bed, Hanako-san," he said suddenly, his eyes hardening. Just the sight of her bland eyes made him feel ill. _

_ The woman stared at him for a moment, sensing danger in his gaze, before bowing lightly, out of respect, and silently padding away. _

_Her husband would not need her that night either. _

_Kyousuke leaned against a wall and stared into the night sky. Searching for answers. _

_And as any other man chosen for greatness, his pleas would be answered that very same night. _

_"Sir," a voice called in the darkness. Kyousuke stood up, his pose straightening. _

_"What is it, Asano?" he asked softly, easily recognizing his most loyal servant's voice. The older man stepped out of the shadows silently and bowed to his lord in deference. _

_"My lord, a group of travelers are asking for asylum for the night," he said, no emotion reflected on his face. "Of course, in exchange, they offer their services." _

_"Services?" Kyousuke asked with a frown. He was not in the mood to stand ridiculous performers tonight. _

_Asano nodded._

_"They say the house drew them near because of their talents, and that they can help with your insomnia, sir." With thin fingers, Asano signaled to a couple sitting patiently by the door. _

_Of course their clothes gave them away immediately. _

_"Onmyouji, huh?" he asked out loud, feeling both, relief and anticipation at the new arrivals. "Bring them to my presence." _

_Asano nodded. _

_"As you wish it, my lord." _

_---- _

_Etsuji looked up as the stoic man came back. Carefully, he shook his sister's shoulder and stood up. _

_"Yurika," he whispered softly, rousing the older girl up. _

_The man stopped before them, his eyes hard, lifeless. Etsuji felt sorrow, staring into those eyes. Hardened eyes of a warrior. _

_"Kyousuke-sama has agreed to let you rest for the night," the man said then, eyes locked with Etsuji's. "He wants to meet you, also."_

_The smaller man felt a thrill run down his spine. Behind the tall man, the house spirits were waving their arms, shaking their heads and almost screaming at him to turn around and run, to forget this accursed place before he got hurt. _

_But Yurika was shivering by his side, and he knew her health would not stand another night outside. _

_With a resigned smile he nodded towards the man, who introduced himself as Asano-san, and took hold of Yurika's hand in his own. _

_---_

_When the travelers entered his house, Kyousuke knew the gods had been hearing his pleas. The woman was ordinary at best, her dull brown eyes and cropped black hair made her undistinguishable between the women of his own household. _

_But the man. _

_He was taller than expected, and his hair color was wrong. _

_But those eyes. _

_The same silver color that haunted his rest was staring back at him now from a very human face. The face of an angel. _

_Kyousuke realized he had irrevocably fallen in love. _

_"Thank you so much for letting us stay, my lord," the young man said, eyes curious. And the young lord felt his heart speeding up in his chest. It was hard, staring into those eyes, getting lost in that lovely creature's beauty. _

_Asano coughed discreetly besides him. _

_"You don't need to thank me, ah," and just like a fool, he hadn't even asked for the onmyouji's name. Kyousuke felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment and distress, not even two minutes into their first encounter and he must be looking like an idiot. _

_The onmyouji smiled lightly, confused by the sudden silence. _

_Yurika elbowed him lightly. _

_"Your name, baka," she whispered good naturedly. _

_Etsuji blushed then, realizing his sudden rudeness. _

_"A-…" he said, looking down. "Akimoto Etsuji. And this is my sister, Yurika." _

_At his cue, both he and his sister bowed low in respect to their host, but the man kept silent, his fierce black eyes almost piercing them. _

_"Akimoto-san," Kyousuke finally whispered, his lips trembling. "You don't need to thank me at all. I think the gods heard my pleas when they put you on your way towards my home." _

_Asano blinked for a moment, then sighed in distress at his lord's dazed smile. It had been years since he had served under Kyousuke-sama, but this was the first time he had seen the man so happy. Slowly, he turned towards the newcomers, examining them with his eyes. _

_Nothing special about them, he guessed. _

_When Kyousuke-sama stopped talking, the taller servant decided he might as well intervene. _

_"Akimoto-san, this household seems to be haunted," he explained, his eyes locked onto the young onmyouji's. He had unusually colored eyes, he had to give him that. _

_Etsuji nodded, his smile growing kind in his face. _

_"I must say I noticed an enormous disturbance as we came in, and I was hoping you'd allow me to help," he said softly, eyes straying between the lord and his servant. They seemed close, almost in a brotherly fashion. Though he had to admit he was worried whenever the other servants stared at their lord, almost all of them held a deep rooter fear in their eyes. _

_This lord must be strong, to be feared. And he also must be just, to be adored. _

_Yurika stared at her younger brother from the corner of her eye. _

_She didn't like the way those men were examining her little Etsuji so closely, like he was an animal. Something valuable and dangerous at the same time. _

_She frowned, deliberately swaying on her feet to rest her side against her brother's. _

_His eyes immediately turned to her, full of concern. _

_Both men frowned then. _

_Yurika felt slightly afraid. But then turned to her brother with a small smile on her tired face. _

_"I'm ok, Etsuji," she whispered, wrapping her hand around his own. _

_Etsuji was not convinced, she could tell, but he smiled back and nodded to her before turning back to their host. _

_"I'm sorry, my lord, but my sister is ill and…" he muttered. _

_Kyousuke was immediately on his feet. _

_"Not another word, Akimoto-san, it was inconsiderate of me to keep you standing here. Asano, please escort our guests to their rooms. We can discuss the matter further tomorrow morning after they have rested." _

_Asano nodded silently and walked the onmyouji and his sister towards a guest room. His concern ever growing for the sanity of his lord. _

_---- _

_The following days were quiet and peaceful for the household. Yurika-san stayed mostly in her rooms, recovering from an unexpected fever, while Asano followed Etsuji-san around as he worked on the old house and heirlooms. _

_Kyousuke watched it all with interested eyes and spent most of his day working and training, looking forward to dinnertime when Etsuji-san would sit with him to eat and chat. His soft voice and sunny smile enough to warm the lord's heart. _

_Currently he was peering into an old, unused room as Etsuji-san placed ofudas over most corners, effectively trapping whatever was hidden in there. _

_Asano looked uncomfortable. _

_"Are you sure this is the correct room?" he asked, staring around. Etsuji turned to him with a wide grin. _

_"Of course I'm sure. Zashiki-warashi(1) has been pointing to this room all week, Asano-san! Whoever is trapped in this room needs my help!" _

_Kyousuke could see that Asano was scared of the old storeroom. He had never been a believer of spirits and guardians, believing more in his sword than his battle comrades than anything beyond human control. _

_Now that Etsuji had graced their household, however, Asano had been introduced first-hand to all the little spirits that had graced their home for centuries. How could he have known that the stone dogs that guarded the temple were actual creatures that moved at night? And those dogs would love to play with Etsuji-san, and therefore himself, whenever they caught them outside?_

_Or that a Yuki-Onna(2) had been their cook for years because she had a crush on Mimato-san, their gardener?_

_Not to mention the Kappa(3) that currently resided on their lake._

_Life around Etsuji-san was never boring, it seemed. _

_However, Asano was slowly discovering that been around their young guest was as dangerous as it was exciting. Whenever he had to kick a harmful spirit from the house, Etsuji-san would spend hours reflecting on its fate and he would even cry for their souls. He enjoyed playing around with their Koma-inu(4) and encouraged the Yuki-Onna to seek out her love. _

_And those eyes. _

_Now Asano understood why Kyousuke-sama enjoyed staring into Etsuji-san's eyes so much. They were unusual, that much was obvious. The silvery color of those eyes easily reflected sunlight and even could gain different shades from his moods. _

_But then again, that wasn't what drew Asano to those eyes. _

_It was the utter happiness in them. _

_The way they stared into someone's soul and made them feel like only they mattered in the world. Like they were chosen by the gods to receive one of the most precious gifts in existence. _

_Etsuji-san could make someone feel like that with just a light glance and one of his usual happy smiles. _

_Asano felt he could stare into those eyes forever and be content. _

_Just like now, that Etsuji-san chanted a spell over and over again, his eyes full of concentration and hidden power. _

_The ofudas on the walls started trembling, the wind blew wildly. _

_Asano unsheathed his sword, ready for any attack. _

_Etsuji-san walked back a few steps, to stand by his side, his chants continued. _

_A shadowy figure started to twist and turn, shrieks of agony escaping its monstrous mouth. _

**_"Don't!"_**_ the figure cried. **"This is my home! MY HOME!!"**_

_Asano stared at Etsuji-san, whose eyes were full of tears and regret._

_"I'm sorry, but you must let go," he whispered sadly. The figure twisted anew, the wind was so strong that the beads around Etsuji-san's wrists rattled noisily. _

**_"NO!! MY HOME!!"_**_ the figure snapped, attacking both men. _

_"Etsuji-san!" Asano yelled, eyes narrowed, ready to defend the man. _

_Etsuji took only one second to stare at Asano before placing a protective charm onto his chest and pushing him out of the way, just when the claws of the creature pierced into the onmyouji's shoulder and the stench of its miasma filled the room. _

_Etsuji closed his eyes tightly, a cry of pain piercing his throat. _

_Still hiding, Kyousuke was ready to jump out and rip the head of that monster when Asano did just that, a yell of rage stating his intent. _

_"DIE!" he roared, stabbing the unmoving figure over and over. _

_Etsuji stood then, holding his bloodied shoulder with a hand. _

_"Asano-san!" he said softly. "Please stop, it's ok. I'm ok!" _

_Asano turned towards the other man, his eyes wild. _

_"Idiot!" he snapped, sizing him by the arms. "Don't you ever do something so dangerous!" _

_Etsuji stared at him, wide eyed. _

_"Asano-san…" he whispered. "I didn't want you to get hurt."_

_Asano roared again. _

_"And then YOU got hurt! How do you think I feel!" Without thinking, Asano wrapped his arms around Etsuji-san and captured those pink lips in his and plunged the sweet mouth with his tongue. Just like he had been wanting to do for days now. _

_Etsuji's eyes widened, his hands immediately raising to push Asano away. Kyousuke's eyes filled with hope. _

_Etsuji would push Asano away, he would reject those impure feelings and then…_

_…then Etsuji's hands tangled on Asano's hair and those wonderful eyes closed with a sigh of pleasure. _

_Kyousuke felt something tighten inside of him before bursting into a million pieces, each little piece stabbing into his skin from the inside and making his whole body tremble and ache. He was bleeding, he knew it, he was dying, and the more he stared at the pair the more he hurt. _

_But he couldn't tear his eyes away from Etsuji and his beauty. _

_With clenched hands that soon teared into his skin he stalked away. Let Asano have him for a while, but Etsuji-san belonged to him and him alone. _

_---- _

_That night, Etsuji sat happily to dine with Kyousuke-sama, his shoulder newly bandaged caused him little discomfort compared to the happiness of being loved by someone as wonderful as Asano-san. _

_The way he looked at him, the way he held him in his strong arms as if he was a treasure. He knew Yurika would not be pleased, but she would eventually understand he wanted to remain here, with Asano-san. _

_Kyousuke-sama was staring at him with a gentle smile on his handsome face. _

_"So, you tell me the spirit plaguing that wing of the house is no longer a threat?" he asked, sipping his sake. Etsuji nodded enthusiastically, his own eyes set on his sake cup. _

_He hadn't dared to touch it yet. _

_"Asano told me you got injured because of it," Kyousuke-sama continued. "Are you sure you are ok?" _

_Etsuji blushed under the intensity of Kyousuke-sama's stare and nodded meekly. _

_"I am, sire, it was just a scratch, besides the creature suffered far worse than I did." _

_Kyousuke nodded, satisfied, and raised his cup towards Etsuji. _

_"Akimoto-san, I'm glad you are ok and that the purification of this house is going so well. Shall we toast for it?" he suggested, his tone sweet. _

_Etsuji nodded again, his cheeks aflame. He always had that kind of reaction when around Kyousuke-sama. _

_Slowly, he grabbed his own cup and put it on his lips. Outside he could hear Zashiki-warashi screaming his name but he thought it might be the Koma-inu chasing him again. Kyousuke-sama grinned at him as he took the first sip of sake, and laughed in delight when his hand fell limp at his side and his vision swam. _

_"K-Kyousuke-sama?" he asked weakly. The lord's hands grasped his own softly, almost reverently, and in his weakened state, Etsuji felt the man's lips on his skin. _

_"Akimoto-san. No, Etsuji-kun," Kyousuke whispered, slowly crawling over the tatami towards his beloved. "It was fate you came to this world. The gods brought you to me at last."_

_Those soulful silver eyes stared at him in confusion, the fear and dizziness made him conscious of the other man's vulnerability. _

_"Don't worry, my beloved Etsuji-kun," Kyousuke whispered, kissing the trembling lips softly. Almost reverently so. Etsuji tasted like sake and sweetness. _

_Perfect for him. _

_Those endless eyes were shaking, full of tears. _

_"Kyou… suke…. Sama," he managed to choke out, but the other man just closed his lips with tender hands._

_"Not a word, beloved," he said, his smile growing. "You said so yourself, didn't you? Say my name and own me or let me go. I can't let you go, I love you, therefore I must say your name, my precious Akimoto Etsuji-kun." _

_Etsuji's eyes widened. _

_The man was insane for sure. But he spoke of the ancient contracts between wizards and their lords. _

_Was he contracting one?_

_"No… please," he sobbed softly. "Don't.." _

_'Don't tie my soul to yours, Kyousuke-sama, don't take me away!' he had wanted to scream, but even opening his eyes was an effort his tired body was struggling with. _

_"Together forever, Etsuji-kun," Kyousuke grinned, taking the other man in his arms and walking calmly out of the house. "Nothing will force us apart now. Not fate, nor spirits, and certainly not Asano." _

_Etsuji tried to struggle, he tried with all his might to move, even to call out for help. He knew someone would have answered. But he couldn't. _

_The only reaction he could muster was the lone tear travelling down his cheek. _

_Asano-san would not be able to help him then._

_Suddenly something cold was touching his feet and spreading towards his legs. Something slippery and wet. _

_A whimper made it past his lips as he realized where Kyousuke-sama was taking him. _

_'The Lake, he's taking me INTO the lake!' he thought frantically. _

_Kyousuke smiled at him, kissing his lips over and over again. _

_"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing," he said, downing a second cup of sake. "We won't feel a thing but our love, Etsuji-kun." _

_'No! Please! I don't want to die!! PLEASE!!' _

_The water was by his shoulders now, but Kyousuke kept walking into the lake, his arms secured around Etsuji's waist. He smiled and fused his lips with his beloved's one more time. _

_The water covered them._

_And together, they disappeared. _

_--------_

This time, when they came to, Hermione and Ron were too far apart to comfort eachother nor Harry. Not that Hermione's thoughts were anywhere near comforting her best friend.

"YOU BASTARD!" she cried. "YOU KILLED HIM!! I LOVED HIM AND YOU TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME!"

Ron ran towards her then, only to hold her down as she tried to lunge at Harry.

"Hermione!" he yelled, grabbing her arms. "It's not us anymore!! YOU SAID SO YOURSELF!!"

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, RON!! HE TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME!! WE WERE SO HAPPY!!"

"I UNDERSTAND!" he said, wrapping both arms around her. "HE KILLED MY LITTLE BROTHER, HERMIONE! I WAS THERE TOO!!"

That seemed to calm her down. With tearful eyes she turned to him, her face red.

"You were Yurika-san?" she asked weakly.

Ron nodded.

"I was the one to discover your corpse and theirs the following morning," he sighed, caressing his wife's cheek. "Hanako-san was a very big help, but it was never the same without him."

Both of them immediately turned to Harry, curling in a corner.

"Oh, mate," Ron said, kneeling by his side.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione sobbed, wrapping her arms around him. "It wasn't your fault, you didn't do that. It was him, he was sick."

Harry was staring at his hands, his face blank.

"Scorpius?" he asked weakly.

_"Yes, Mr. Potter?"_ came the young man's voice.

"It was him again, wasn't it? Caedyrn, Etsuji, it's the same person, right?"

There was a long silence.

_"Yes, Mr. Potter," Scorpius said finally. "Caedyrn back in Gaul, then Etsuji in Japan, it's always the same person." _

Harry felt tears running down his cheeks.

"So, next one we will meet again," he stated hollowly.

_"Yes, Mr. Potter, you will."_

"Will I hurt him again?"

Another silence, long.

_"I'm sorry Mr. Potter. We can stop if you want…"_

Harry shook his head.

"I want to see why I couldn't stop myself. Why I couldn't let him go," his words were weak, as weak as he felt. But his determination shone in his eyes. "I can't let it happen again, should we meet now."

Scorpius let out a soft sigh, one that Harry couldn't discern.

"Why was Hermione the guy's lover?" Ron asked suddenly. "Why was I his sister?"

Hermione answered this time, her forehead pressed against Harry's shoulder.

"Because Quirinus never understood how Marcus Leontius lost his head over another man. So this time I fell in love with him too, and I was insane enough over him to kill myself in his name."

Harry embraced her tenderly, sensing her distress.

"As for you, Ron," she continued. "I remember Ainia asking me about Caedyrn, she had wanted to see what made him so special."

"Then I came back his sister, to know him," Ron surmised, feeling miserable. Slowly, he walked towards his best friend and wife and sat by their side. "At least tell me my brother fought back next time, huh, Malfoy?"

Scorpius didn't speak then.

_"Dad, Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron,"_ spoke Albus, his voice concerned. _"Are you really sure you want to keep going with this?" _

Harry frowned.

"Yes, son," he said. "I need to know."

_"Ok," _ the boy said softly. _"I'll guide you now, Scorpius is… he had an emergency."_

Before any of the adults could ask about it, darkness enveloped them and they were on their way once more.

**To be continued**

_(1) **Zashiki-warashi**: a protective child-like house spirit.  
(2)**Yuki-Onna:** a snow woman.  
(3)_** Kappa:** a famous water monster with a water-filled head and a love of cucumbers._  
(4)** Koma-inu:** another name for the shishi, the pair of lion-dogs that guard the entrances of temples._


	3. Chapter 3

"_I love you so much," whimpered the old man, his balding head soak__ed with sweat. Jean stared up the ceiling, his eyes dull, a smile curling his lips as the other man thrust into him with abandon. _

"_Do you love me?" the man ask__ed, his pudgy hands caressing his thighs. _

_Jean smiled happily. _

"_Of course I love you, your eminence," he moaned, wrapping both arms around the man's neck, bringing his sweaty body closer. The man gave him a wide smile and planted sloppy kisses down his neck before arching his back precariously and filling Jean with his warm seed. _

"_You are so beautiful, my lovely, so very beautiful," whispered the man as he stood. _

"_I'm not worthy of your praise, sire," Jean whispered back, coyly. The old man laughed and reached for his clothing for some coins. Jean stood immediately, his eyes determined. _

"_Sire, if I might presume," he sa__id softly, kissing the man's shoulders tenderly. "Remember the ring?" _

_The man turned, a smile on his face. _

"_That's right, you did say you wanted to play with my ring," he mused, taking off the heavy singlet. "Take it while I get washed and dressed."_

_Jean let out a delighted squeal as he slipped the singlet on. The man cleaned his skin with a wet rag sprinkled with perfume, before starting to dress. The boy laughed and ran around the room, letting the ring catch different angles of light, enjoying the colors. _

_Little did the man know, the boy had pressed the singlet in several blank papers while playing. Papers that would be filled later on. _

_As the old man finished fixing his red robes, he wrapped his arms around the boy's slim waist and kissed his pouty lips. _

"_Will I see you tomorrow night?" he said longingly. Jean grinned and nodded. _

"_Of course you will, your eminence," he answered, nuzzling the man's fat cheek. _

_Cardinal Orssini left the little room with a wide smile on his face and a skip on his steps. Jean watched from his window, waving. He saw Marcel from the corner of his eye, ready to follow the disgusting old man and finally finish him off. _

_Marcel's deep blue eyes met his own cold brown ones._

_He nodded__. _

_His partner nod__ded back and speeds off after Cardinal Orssini. _

_The man would__ be dead by dawn._

_Jean sighed__ and sat down to write on his newly signed parchments. He needed to make sure they reached the king next week and by then the ink must look old enough. Of course everyone knew of Cardinal Orssini's fascination with him, he made sure the last six months to let everyone in court of his presence around the Italian. Some courtesans hated his guts, he was nothing but a street rat climbing his way up from bed to bed. _

_Jean kn__ew they might be right, but he would also be someone by the end of the month. With a swirl of his quill, the same one the good old Cardinal used when he wrote, he finished his letter addressed to the King himself. _

_By the end of the month, Jean Francois L'Molliere would be recognized as the Marquee of Montespan, the last living child of the late Madame Francoise Athenais D'Montespan and her unfortunate husband. _

_His smile widened__ as he stared at his finished product. _

_It was Cardinal Orssini's fault, really. The pig thought that teaching his little songbird how to write was such a pious idea. _

_----_

_Xavier sighed over and over again as the ladies from court batted their eyelashes at him. He knew he was the definition of 'fresh meat' by Versailles standards, just returning from his studies abroad, but court would be quite surprised when they realized that by no means Count D' Mont Fellix is a child to be played with. _

_He ha__d shared enough passion during his travels to rival that of the King himself. And while his riches amounted a considerable sum for any young lady in age of marriage, he was not about to go his way pampering any spoiled little girl into his bed. _

_Honoré, his best friend, elbow__ed his side with a wide grin as their mutual friend, Antoin disappeared in the crowd of eager ladies. _

_They both roll__ed their eyes and laughed to one another. _

"_That man needs to learn how to keep his pants on," Honoré laughed, sipping his Champaign, green eyes alit with mirth. Xavier nodded his agreement, his own blue eyes sweeping over the crowd in search of something to catch his interest. _

_Many girls were there just for him, and their eager poses told him so. Yet they were all dull, blank and boring to his growing impatience. _

_Then, he saw him. _

"_Who is that?" he asked Honoré, who always knew who is who in Versailles. _

_His friend blinked, confused, then his eyes landed too on the richly dressed young man standing by a corner surrounded by older, important men. _

"_Oh, him," Honoré said, rather disappointedly. "That's the new Marquee D'Montespan."_

_Xavier raised a golden eyebrow, obviously interested. _

"_Some say the late Cardinal Orssini picked him up from the streets, a common whore you see," Honor__é explained. "Then he found out his little bed-warmer was none other than the Marquee D'Montespan's child. He wrote to the King immediately." _

_Xavier grinned, clearly amused. _

"_I don't see Cardinal Orssini anywhere," he whispered to his friend, his eyes searching for the old pig's face among the crowd. Honoré shook his head. _

"_You won't, he was assassinated half a year ago, some say it was a buglar, others say Monsieur D'Monstespan did it, or someone who didn't want the new Marquee to be found."_

"_I can imagine what a gossip it must be," Xavier grinned, letting his eyes slowly explore the young Marquee's body. He was a sight to behold indeed. "Is he currently… in company?" _

_Xavier had expected many different reactions from his friend, but not the sudden eye-widening paleness of his face and uncomfortable biting on his lips. _

"_Listen, Xavier, my friend, that is one dangerous man if I've ever seen one. I think he's from the other side, the devil's side," Honoré whispered furiously, his eyes hard. "Many men had shared his bed this past months, they all love him, they all die." _

_Xavier knew his friend wanted to protect him, he knew he thought him weak. But the enchanting creature was smiling and holding Monsieur Aunai's hand and __he couldn't wait to feel those slender fingers against his own and maybe taste them with his tongue. _

"_Introduce me, my friend," he asked simply, not taking his eyes from the new Marquee's piercing brown eyes. _

_Honor__é groaned out loud. _

"_You are signing your death warrant," he snorted. __"And I will not be the one to take you to it." Without another word, the other man shook his head and stalked away angrily. Xavier shrugged, unconcerned. Honoré needed a partner of his own. _

_With confident strides he approached the other man, his intention clear as he placed a cautious hand on his slim shoulder. _

"_I'm afraid we haven't been introduced, your grace," he whispered on the small ear. The other man shivered lightly, almost coyly, before turning his molten eyes on him. _

"_Indeed, sire," he answered, his tone light and sweet. Xavier took the Marquee's hand in his own and kissed its back softly._

"_Xavier…" he began, but was interrupted by a slight giggle. _

"_I know who you are Count, I've heard stories of your heroics," the young Marquee said. Xavier grinned, feeling more interested in the man-boy before him than he thought it was possible. _

"_Then, your grace, I believe we are even, for I have heard the most amazing things about you," he answered, his eyes glinting with all his intentions. "Maybe you would like to accompany me and my friends to my house after this party? I'm sure you'd enjoy yourself there."_

_The Marquee smiled gently, indulgently. He looked like a painting of the virgin herself at that moment. _

"_I'd be honored, your grace," he whispered back. Xavier shivered this time, out of excitement or dread, he wasn't sure. _

"_Then I'll be seeing you if a few hours, Marquee," he said. _

"_Jean Luke," corrected the other man. _

"_Jean Luke," repeated the Count. "Then I must insist you call me Xavier."_

_Jean nodded lightly, his head already turning to regard his other admirers. _

"_Xavier then, I'll be seeing you soon."_

_---- _

_Stumbling into bed together had been fairly easy for them. Some verbal foreplay during dinner and innocent brushing of their hands while reaching for glasses of champagne was all they needed to inflame passion on the other and retire early for bed. _

_Xavier entertained himself by marking Jean Luke's soft skin, biting and scratching and making sure that each and every lover his little Marquee might have in the future would know he was there first. _

_Jean Luke arched and responded like a professional, his only aim in drawing the young Count into himself, maybe holding him in his embrace until he was not able to leave. Both of them thought the match was even. And maybe it was meant to be that way. Maybe God all merciful had brought them together as an unmistakable form of evening delight in this world. _

_They grinned at eachother under the covers, their cheeks red and breathing uneven. _

_Jean's hands caressed Xavier's skin hesitantly, shy. _

_Xavier devoured Jean's fingers then they approached his face. _

_Their eyes met._

_They were satisfied. _

_Of course having Jean Luke stay at his side like a faithful consort was the only logical step to take for the young Count. _

_Outside the rumors ran like water. The Marquee was in need, as his ancient house needed to be repaired and his friend, the Count provided shelter for him. _

_The Marquee had chosen his next target and it would only be months before the Black Widow hit again. The Count had his days counted. _

_The Marquee had used the devil's arts on the Count to drive him to the road of sin. _

_The Count was one of the devil's people and had summoned a personal concubine out of hell, that had taken the form of the Marquee. The real Marquee, of course, was buried under the stables at the Count's villa. _

_The truth would never be clear, as it usually happened with such scandal. _

"_I met with Monsieur Vittorino last night," Jean said that afternoon, snuggling into Xavier's naked body, enjoying the way his warm hands caressed his back. "He has the most beautiful Arabian stallion. I wish I could own a horse like that." _

_Xavier laughed and bit on Jean's milky shoulder playfully. _

"_If you want it I'll buy it for you," he mumbled against the skin before sinking his teeth once more. _

"_You wouldn't mind? The King's still processing my inheritance from my late father," the Marquee smirked, peppering Xavier's arm with small kisses and kittenish licks. _

"_Not at all, in fact, why don't you get a mare and a stallion? You'll have fun breeding them."_

_Jean's chocolate colored eyes locked onto Xavier's cold-blue ones. _

"_You are so good to me," he said softly. "Are you in love with me?"_

_Xavier smirked. _

"_Not at all," he answered honestly. "We have fun. Why spoil it with ridiculous emotions?" _

_Jean Luke seemed to twitch at such declaration, but his smile was still in place when he captured his lover's lips with his own and he proceeded to claim them with all the passion he had. _

"_My thoughts exactly." _

_---- _

_Marcel stared as Jean Luke passed around the room. His eyes hard and lips curling in annoyance. He knew his best friend like he knew himself, and Jean was not annoyed, nor was he trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He was trying to get as much distance between himself and the other noble as possible without demonstrating his distaste. _

"_He's hard to get through," Jean sighed, running a hand through his hair and conspicuously glaring at the other man through his fingers. "And very blunt. Quite a savage." _

"_You said you could make him lose his head," the other noble hissed, his green eyes narrowed. "You've done it before to Cardinal Orssini and to Viscount Cardenas." _

"_Those two were foreigners," Jean defended himself. "__Xavier is used to the French ways."_

_Marcel watched silently as always, ready to strike should Jean be harmed. _

_Honoré grabbed Jean Luke by the shoulders and pushed him against a wall. _

"_I don't care if you have to get pregnant somehow, my sweet," he hissed. "But you will make that bastard love you, you will drive him mad like all the others and he will be out of my way by the time the King's birthday party comes." _

_Marcel stood, his hands clenched, but Jean Luke only smiled. _

"_Do you love me, Honoré?" he asked sweetly. _

_The older man leered, suddenly claiming the Marquee's pouty mouth. _

"_How could I love a whore like you?" he snapped, licking the skin of Jean's neck and hissing in pleasure when a pale hand slipped inside his trousers to fondle his erection. _

"_I don't know, your grace," Jean moaned softly, delivering soft nips on Honoré's ear. "I guess you are smarter than that." _

"_One month, Jean Luke," Honoré growled, latching his teeth onto the pale shoulder, just where Xavier had bitten before, maybe precisely because of that. "If you fail I'll lock you up in my castle, and you will be forced to service only me until you die." _

_Jean locked his eyes with Marcel's and rolled them playfully as Honoré tensed and came forcefully, soiling Jean's silken robe._

"_I'll have him in a month, Honore, my love," he answered, kissing his lips one last time. "Don't you worry about it." _

_Honoré narrowed his eyes and nodded before hastily tucking himself back into his trousers and leaving the room. _

_Jean watched him go with narrowed eyes and a wide grin on his face. _

"_He's a goner already," he said, taking off his robe to clean himself. "I'll give him two more weeks." _

_Marcel sighed and retrieved a wet towel from a table and helped his best friend clean his soiled thighs. He had been invited some weeks ago to the Count D' Mont Fellix's house as one of Jean Luke's whims. Sometimes his friend teased the Count about the nature of their relationship, but Count Xavier D' Mont Fellix only grinned and stated that if Marcel was indeed Jean Luke's brother or best friend or lover, he couldn't care less. _

"_You shouldn't let him treat you this way," he muttered as Jean raised a pale leg and he had access to his abused anus. "You are bleeding." _

_Jean shook his head. _

"_He is protecting me from investigation," he stated softly. "If we want to get our revenge we will need his protection." _

_Marcel nodded, his eyes downcast. He felt like a monster and couldn't actually face his little brother properly because of it. Because it had been his idea that Jean used his beauty to their advantage that first time. He had introduced Jean to Cardinal Orssini and now his little brother was a whore. _

_One that was playing with fire. _

"_What are you going to do about Mont Fellix?" he asked, cleaning the smaller man's feet. _

"_I don't know," Jean admitted. "He is a whore's dream come true. He buys me everything I ask for, doesn't get jealous if I have sex with someone else, and only wants to fuck every two days whenever and ifever he gets time."_

"_Yet you want his heart," Marcel sighed, drying Jean's knees. _

"_Exactly. His heart has to be mine, just like all the others before him, but specially his." _

_The taller man stared at his little brother for a moment, wondering when had his little Jean Luke turned into this monster twisted and blind to anything but their plan of revenge. _

"_I don't want to see you hurt," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around Jean Luke. "And I fear that bastard is going to hurt you." _

"_Don't worry, brother," Jean soothed. "Honoré is a brute, but practically harmless. I'll have him jumping into the river in a week." _

_Marcel nodded and hid his face on his brother's hair. _

_They both knew he didn't mean Honoré. _

_But they both chose to remain silent. _

_---- _

_The night had been long, and alcohol had been plentiful. Many of that evening's guest were staying at the mansion while others stumbled away towards their carriages. Jean thought it was hilarious that Honoré pretended to be disgusted by his presence the whole night until he was too drunk and started pawning at his clothes shamelessly. _

_Xavier had laughed a little, then bodily removed his best friend and escorted him towards a guestroom. He drank quite a lot that particular evening, and Jean was intrigued. _

"_Anything you want to talk about, Xavier?" he asked as he returned, a hand patting the place besides him by the fire. _

_Xavier stumbled towards him, wrapping a comfortable arm around his shoulders. _

"_Today is a sad day," he slurred. "Sad, sad day. Father disappeared today and mother soon after. I don't like to think today." _

_Jean nodded understandingly, his left hand running over Xavier's hair. He had abandonment issues, of course, first the death of his father and then the obvious neglect of his mother. Jean had his first taste of them the moment he had asked for an extended vacation without a return date. Xavier had been adamant. He could go wherever he pleased but only if he stated exactly when he would return, and of course any delay would be interpreted as the end of their arrangement._

"_If you want to go, go. But if you don't return in time, you'd better not return at all," Xavier had whispered on Jean's ear, his eyes hard. _

_Jean had, of course, returned at the appointed time always. Except for the time he had made Marcel trash his clothes and injure his leg. He had limped back home through the forest on purpose, if only to claim he had been attacked on the way back. _

_It was, if possible, the only time he had seen Xavier's eyes show something more that indifference of passion. As he carefully cradled Jean's bruised body against himself and hid his face on the black and blue shoulder, he whispered over and over that he was going to kill whoever had marred his skin without permission. _

_And Jean Luke felt a twinge of guilt for the first time in his life. _

_He hadn't tried another stunt after that one. _

"_Tell me about your father?" Xavier asked suddenly, nuzzling Jean's hair. _

"_Monsieur Guille?" he asked surprised. He had told Xavier extensely about the man who had adopted him when he was a child. Marcel's father. "Well, he was a baker, a very honest and caring man. He took me in without thinking twice and taught me…" _

"_No, no!" Xavier whined. "Not the one that adopted you, your real father. The one that abandoned you." _

_Jean Luke spent a few minutes staring at Xavier's face. He was swaying lightly as he leaned over Jean's frame, his cheeks were red and his eyes unfocused. He really had too much to drink. _

"_I don't really know much about him, my mother, the Marquise, however," he started, but Xavier placed a sloppy hand over his lips. _

"_Liar liar… we both know your mother was not the Marquise," he laughed, resuming his nuzzling. __"My father was a friend of hers, and he told me a liiittle secret when I was young." _

_Jean Luke's face paled, his hands trembling._

"_Secret?" he asked, doing his best to appear nonchalant. _

"_Yeah. He said Madame Francoise Athenais had been left barren after giving birth to the last of the King's children. That was forty years ago and you, my dear, are not that old. So, I guess the Marquise didn't give birth to you, right?"_

_Jean felt the world narrow before his eyes, where was Marcel? He needed his stoic presence, he needed to breathe. He felt faint. _

_All his hard work, his schemes and sacrifices…_

… _all for naught. _

"_But don't worry, pretty thing," Xavier slurred. "I'll keep your secret. I want you here." _

_Blue and brown eyes met as they usually did. _

"_My mother was a servant of the house, the master took a fondness for her and took her to his bed," he began his tale. "When I was born Madame kicked us out of the house. She said we were a sin and should not exist. That God would make sure we stayed away from her family." _

"_Then Monsieur Guille adopted you," Xavier commented, a little puzzled. All that rant about god and sin didn't seem like the infamous Marquise D'Montespan. _

_Jean nodded. _

"_He was in love with my mother, but mother was ill. She died soon after my third birthday," he mumbled, maybe the alcohol was getting to him too. "But that's ok. One day I'll drag that woman's beloved into sin as well. She'll understand my feelings then."_

"_No wonder you are angry," Xavier sighed, showering Jean's neck with sloppy kissed. "If that had happened to me I would hate all nobles too." The other man frowned. _

"_What makes you think I hate nobles?" he asked sweetly, taking Xavier's face with both hands and forcing him to look at him in the eye. _

"_Well, the way you look at me and at Honoré and Antoin. And most nobles really. As if you want to kill us," he answered softly. "I don't want you to hate me." _

_It was that moment when Jean felt he had control back. He pasted a sweet smile on his face, full of longing and tenderness, before kissing his lover's nose. _

"_I couldn't hate you even if I wanted to, Xavier," he said. "I love you. Do you love me?" _

_Xavier, maybe because of the alcohol or despite it, grinned widely and nodded. _

"_I love you, Jean, I love you so much." _

_Something cold and sharp stabbed the smaller man, but he shook his head quickly and continued to smile. _

"_Let's go to bed, love," he urged, standing. _

"_I want to make love to you," the Count slurred. "I want you to be mine." _

"_And I will, Xavier. Always."_

_---- _

_Xavier was woken the following morning by Marcel's frantic screams and his mother's shrill voice. Instantly his hand reached for Jean Luke, but his side of the bed was empty and the sheets cold. He hadn't been there for a long time. _

_Slowly he slipped into a robe and dashed to the garden where his mother had obviously returned from her convent. _

_He had always hated the woman who thought nursing ill bastards and nuns was more important than her own lonely son. _

"_Mother," he snapped, staring at her torn and muddy black dress and frizzled blonde hair, her eyes were wide with rage and her skin reddened considerably. Her bony fingers were curled into claws that she pointed viciously at a worried Marcel. "What is the meaning of this?" _

"_You brought sin to our house, Xavier!" she hissed. "You brought these spawns of the devil to our sacred home!! YOU DEFILED OUR HOUSE!!" _

"_What do you mean, you old bat? Stop harassing that man," he snapped. "He is a guest in our home." _

"_That bastard is no guest of ours!" Madame D'Mont Fellix shrieked. "HIM AND HIS BASTARD OF A BROTHER SHOULD BE DEAD!" _

_Marcel clenched his hands, his eyes narrowed. _

_Xavier mirrored his pose, and realized, maybe for the first time, how alike they looked. _

"_You are insulting the Marquee D'Montespan's servant, mother," he hissed as viciously__. The last thing he wanted was the old woman's stupidity to reach Jean Luke, who adored Marcel like his own brother kind. _

_Madame's eyes widened. _

"_Marquee D'Montespan?!" she growled. "These brats are not the Marquee'__s, Xavier, they are the spawns of their hell-hound of a mother who drove your father to the road of sin!! THIS ARE YOUR FATHER'S SINFUL SPAWNS!!" _

_It was as if the floor from under Xavier's feet had disappeared and his stomach pummeled down with it. _

_Jean Luke always called Monsieur Guille by his name, and always said he was Marcel's father. But he had never said that they weren't related. _

_Marcel and Jean Luke were similar, their blond hair and pale skin for once, but while Jean Luke's eyes were honey and chocolate, Marcel's were cold blue…_

_Just like his own._

… _like his father's. _

_Suddenly he felt sick. _

"_We did it, brother!" laughed Jean Luke suddenly, making all three of them turn around to look for the victorious imp. _

"_JEAN LUKE!" screamed Marcel, his eyes upwards. Xavier turned to and lost all color. _

_Jean Luke was standing on the ledge of his window, the highest of all the mansion. His naked skin shining under the morning sun as much as the white silk robe he had thrown over his shoulders. _

_Madame D'Mont Fellix shrieked in rage, staring at the kiss marks and bites on the young man's skin. _

"_XAVIER!" she cried. _

"_Suffer, you witch!" laughed Jean, his arms spread wide. "He's slept with his own baby brother! He's a sinner just like us!! You might have given birth to him, but he's mine now!" _

"_Jean, that's great!" yelled Marcel, his hands shaking. "But please come down. "We'll go far away where no one can hurt us, baby. Come on." _

_It suddenly dawned on Xavier that Jean was standing dangerously close to the ledge, and his bare feet were taking him further out. _

"_JEAN!" he screamed. "GET DOWN!"_

_The young man stared at them both, a tender smile on his beautiful face. _

"_I can't," he said. "I swore on mother's grave that my heart would only be for her. I broke my promise, Xavier. You took my heart as I took yours and that makes me broken, like all the others!" _

_Marcel was starting to panic, Xavier noted, and he wasn't doing any better. _

_So what if he had shared his own brother's bed?_

_He could easily burn in hell if it meant going there with the beautiful chocolate-eyed imp. _

"_Jean, get down here, I love you!" he pleaded. _

_Jean giggled childishly, his eyes full of tears. _

"_I love you too, Xavier," he answered. "Catch me!" _

_Marcel's frantic screams and Madame D'Mont Fellix's cries went unheard by Xavier who immediately launched to greet his beloved, his little tease, his brother, in his arms. The brief warmth of their hands touching spread through his body. _

_Then the force of Jean Luke's fall brought him down. _

_Something hit the back of his head. _

_Then…_

_He felt nothing. _

_---------- _

When Harry came to this time, it was to the sound of retching. He glanced up and saw, much to his surprise, Hermione on her knees, emptying the content of her stomach. Ron was by her side, caressing her back gently and holding her long hair from her face.

Harry crawled weakly towards them.

"'Mione?" he asked hoarsely. She turned slowly towards him, her eyes full of tears.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I was a monster, I'm sorry!" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around her best friend and hiding her face on his chest. Harry returned the embrace and tried to sooth her as best as he could, this last experience had shaken him, obviously.

"Honoré was the one to plan your death," Ron whispered, kneeling by his wife's side.

"I thought that they people around Jean Luke died because they went insane, I thought he was a wizard that used Imperio on them," she sobbed. "I wanted him to kill you too. I paid him to seduce you."

Harry sighed, resting his head on top of hers.

"He would have seduced me anyway, with or without your prompting, Hermione," he said softly. "He wanted his revenge."

Hesitantly, he met Ron's eyes.

"So, I guess this time we were brothers too, huh?" he asked. Ron blinked.

"Um, not really," he answered. "I was busy partying around, sleeping with the ladies. I found out what happened when Honoré appeared murdered in his house."

Hermione and Harry both looked up.

"So, you were not Marcel?" she asked weakly. "He was the one to murder me."

Ron shook his head.

"Then there is a fifth coincidence with our lives," she muttered, her eyes narrowed. "That person has been with us more than once."

"Well, she was Harry's wife last time, in Japan," Ron said simply. "Enough reason to get a relation and want him dead still."

Harry sighed.

"And I guess your hate for me was a residue because I killed Etsuji-kun,"

"And most likely next time you won't be very fond of me because I pretended Jean Luke too," Hermione sighed back, snuggling into his embrace.

"And whoever that Marcel was, will hate you both," Ron said suddenly.

"How did I die?" Harry asked suddenly. "I remember I was happy, insanely so, and then nothing."

"Jean Luke fell on top of you, the force of the blow threw you backwards and you broke your neck on the ground at the same time that he split his head open."

"Ouch," Ron shuddered.

Harry and Hermione snorted.

"_Dad, are you ok?"_ Albus asked softly, he sounded shaken.

"I'm fine, son," Harry smiled. "It must be harder for you, I mean. You see us as ourselves."

"_I guess… I mean, yes. I'm fine."_

"I'm proud of you, Albus."

"_Thanks, Dad…"_ Albus said nervously. _"Are you guys ready for the next… life? That one is intense. Please remember that I love you and I won't judge you?"_

"What do you mean by that?" Ron asked.

"It means you have seen us before," Hermione surmised. "You treated HIM!"

"_Shit!" _Albus cursed. _"Have fun, love you!" _

"ALBUS WAIT!" screamed Harry, but darkness enveloped him before he could say anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

_Konstantin Dominic Karkaroff was perfect and knew it. His life was on track after meeting his lord and master and a new road of opportunities had just opened before him, leaving behind the putrid life of an herbologist and rushing head in into a new lifestyle full of delight. _

_Just like the one he was experimenting right now, staring right into the dead eyes of another half-breed bastard that had dared to cross their army. _

_"Done?" he asked amusedly, his eyes set on the corpse and, specially, the man's pointed ears._

_"All done, sir," one of his subordinates said seriously, eyes hard. Most of his soldiers were cheering while they rummaged to other corpses' pockets. Rich half-breeds were common in the area. _

_"Good," he mused, blasting the door of the castle open with his wand. He had won the siege and, as Lord Grindewall often said, to the victor went the spoils. _

_Now __Durmstrang__Castle__ was his._

_"General!" another soldier yelled in obvious distress. "You need to see this!" _

_With a frown, Konstantin approached the soldier and followed his wide eyes to the wall they had knocked down during the battle, or, most accurately, to what laid inside. _

_"Those fucking freaks," he cursed, his eyes wide. "What the hell is this, Lief!"_

_"They were breeding, sir!" stuttered the soldier, Augustin Lief, his face paling by the second. "Those bastards were breeding their monsters here!" _

_Konstantin peered inside, covering his nose as he was greeted with the putrid stench of the lab. He could easily guess the reason for such smell, considering the amount of rotting corpses and body parts littering the floor and walls. _

_Glass cases hung from all walls as their contents, deformed fetuses and children, floated inside in sleep. Some had fish tails instead of legs, others had pointed ears and webbed fingers. Others were even sported scales down their arms and silver horns curled from their heads. _

_The blond narrowed his eyes, sickened. _

_"Kill them all," he said. "Don't leave any of this beasts alive." _

_His loyal soldiers rushed to comply, most cursing the name of the late Count Durmstrang, because this was obviously his fault. To breed pure-blooded wizards and witches with this atrocities. _

_"Sir!" Lief called suddenly, his voice shrill. "SIR! ONE IS OUT OF ITS CAGE!" _

_Konstantin rushed towards his soldier, his wand ready to strike whatever deformed monster he met. _

_He hadn't expected a child, however. _

_He hadn't expected the blood-soaked child to stare at him with innocent light blue eyes and to reach milk-white hands towards him. _

_"Daddy?" the child asked. "Can we go home, Daddy?" _

_Lief raised his wand, ready to end the creature's suffering, but Konstantin stopped him. _

_"Hello, baby," he asked the child. "What is your name?" _

_The boy tipped his head to the side, ebony locks hiding his eyes for a moment. _

_"Master called me Grigory," he giggled happily. "Can we go home, Daddy? I'm hungry." _

_Lief stared at his commanding officer with worry. _

_"Sir…" he tried, but Konstantin was already cradling the child in his arms and caressing his head. _

_"Of course, Grigory," he whispered. "We can go home now." _

_---- _

_"It seems you brought a little souvenir from your excursion to Durmstrang, Kostya," laughed their Lord Grindewall as he entered his most trusted general's chambers. Konstantin wanted to stand and greet his master, but Grigory's eager hands on his thighs prevented him from moving. _

_"Ah, yes, my Lord," he managed to gasp. Grindewall raised a golden eyebrow and sat before his general, an amused smile curling his lips. _

"Eager little thing, isn't it?" he asked.

Konstantin lowered his eyes.

_"I can't help it, my lord," he muttered, trying to grab onto the boy's arms to stop him. "He says this is the only way he can show his… gratitude. If I try to stop him he will… punish himself." _

_"Almost like a house-elf," mussed the older man, his smirk widening when the boy's hands reached for his knee. "Have you found out what type of breed this little one is?" _

_Grigory giggled happily and continued to rub his ivory cheek against Konstantin's crotch, a soft purring noise escaping his throat with each caress. _

_Konstantin pulled his head back, a grin on his face. _

_"For what I can tell he's mostly humanoid," he stated, separating the boy's lips with his fingers. "It seems his teeth were sharpened the muggle way, as were his nails." _

_"A muggle then?" Gellert asked, raising the second eyebrow in surprise. "Would it explain why this little monster is clinging to you? Trying to suck your cock?" _

_Konstantin shook his head. _

_"No, my Lord," he sighed. "Irivna has examined him thoroughly. She said he was… abused, repeatedly. My guess is that this little thing went mad."_

_"A mad muggle sex-toy," Gellert laughed. "So poetic. Maybe the creatures in the laboratorie were your pretty pet's children?" _

_Konstantin rolled his eyes. _

_"Doubtfully, my Lord," he answered with a shrug. Grigory was reaching for his pants again, and this time, Konstantin let him. "I asked him already." _

"Oh?" mocked Grindewall. "And what did the boy say?"

Karkaroff shrugged.

_"Grigory, can you tell our lord what you were doing at the laboratory?" he asked with a cruel smirk. The boy's eyes were dull when he answered, fully concentrated on pulling Konstantin's generous erection from his pants. Daddy was a good man, daddy deserved to be happy. _

_"Master said I was a bad boy," he explained. "Bad boys don't eat. And then Master left and never returned and the babies were dying anyway. Tender tender flesh." _

Lief paled from his post by the door, his eyes downcast.

Grindewall's smirk disappeared.

"He was eating them," he said, if only to make sure he heard right.

_"Lord Durmstrang didn't feed him. He went and ate whatever he found," Konstantin explained, his hand caressing his pet's hair tenderly. "I'm proud of you, baby." _

_Grigory looked up, his face flushing pink and his eyes wide. _

_"I love you, Daddy," he beamed, running his cheek against his new owner's engorged cock. Konstantin moaned, tightening his grip on the boy's hair. _

_"And Daddy loves you, Grigory."_

_Gellert Grindewall just waved his wand and served himself more tea, preparing for another one of his most trusted general's exhibitions. _

_------- _

_"We are worried, my Lord," Lt. Lief sighed, staring at the blond dark wizard. "Commander has not left his room for a week and that… animal. He stalks the gardens at night, catching doves and mice with his teeth." _

_Dr. Viktoria Irivna nodded her head, her eyes wide. _

_"Master, that muggle brat is clearly out of his mind," she stated. "By forming a sexual-familiar bond with General Karkaroff, he secures his position of food and shelter. It is a clear manipulation of Karkaroff's darker needs." _

_Grindewall crossed his arms, clearly amused. He knew, of course, that while Lt. Lief respected and maybe even admired Konstantin's military ability, he was sickened by the displays he clearly considered pure 'entertainment'. To Konstantin, setting wild animals to dispose of their prisoners or even torturing them out of curiosity, was completely acceptable, considering their muggle origins. _

_Irivna, on the other hand, hated Karkaroff with passion. The same passion that had them married ten years previous and then forced her to face shame and ridicule by his divorce petition. _

Karkaroff was a remorseless, conscienceless man with a cruel heart and an even crueler appetite.

Just like Grindewall liked them.

Just like Albus had been all those years ago.

_"General Karkaroff has been doing an exemplary job for our cause," Gellert said finally. "And his little beast is nothing to him but a source of amusement. He is taking advantage of the only use muggles have." _

_Of course, he wouldn't share with his little soldiers how passionate and dedicated was the boy when set on bringing pleasure. Just remembering his tiny hands and full lips was enough to make the Dark Lord shiver. _

_"But, my Lord," Lief tried, his eyes showing his concern. _

_"That will be enough, Lt. Lief," Grindewall snapped. "I expect your report on The Wand by tonight." _

_It wasn't necessary to dismiss them both, he knew. _

_They understood he wasn't going to pay attention to their petty complains anymore. _

_---- _

_"Daddy," Grigory moaned, his dark hair trashing from side to side and he shook with pleasure. _

_Konstantin grinned; thrusting determined to bring his little fiend into orgasm. Idly, he wondered when his partner's pleasure had become important to him. _

_"My baby," he groaned back, biting into the soft skin of his toy's shoulder. "My Grigory."_

_"Daddy!" the boy answered. "I love you, Daddy, I love you!" _

_Konstantin roared into the tip of a pointed ear before lavishing the shell with his tongue. He didn't know what it was about Grigory that drove him mad, but the taste of his skin, the color of his eyes. It was all so heady, so intoxicating. He could hardly get enough. _

_With another scream he tightened his hands on the boy's hips, knuckled turning white, and spilled himself inside the wet heat that was Grigory, so snug and perfect. _

_The boy tightened his arms around his 'Daddy's neck and sunk his sharp teeth into his shoulder, breaking the skin easily and lapping at his blood. _

_Konstantin felt the tiny body shudder and then the warmth of his seed spilling into them both. The sweet smell of their coupled orgasm filling the room. _

_Slowly he pulled out from his little baby's body and laid on his back, pulling Grigory with him. _

_"You were wonderful, baby," Konstantin whispered. "I'm very happy."_

_Grigory's eyes widened and then lit up happily, his arms tightening around Daddy's neck. _

_"Daddy is happy!" he beamed, licking the man's ear, his slender thigh already rubbing against the man's awakening erection, coercing muted gasps from those rugged lips. "I want Daddy to be happy, I want Daddy to love me." _

_Konstantin thought back to his son Igor, locked back home since Irivna and him were busy. Igor never called him Daddy, nor did he demand his love so eagerly. _

_Was this little imp a replacement for his own cold son?_

_A simple glance towards the boy's pointy ears and the little ridges that were marring his shoulder blades were answer enough. _

_A part of him told Konstantin he should be sickened, to share his bed with a half-breed. _

_Yet, Grigory was everything and anything he could ever want. _

_With a playful growl he deepened two fingers into the boy's stretched hole and grinned when that sweet mouth opened into a single O of pleasure, his legs spreading instantly in a silent plea for more. Sweaty ebony locks plastered to the pillow shook as the boy mewled and begged for his Daddy's cock. _

_They would not abandon their bed for a few more days. _

_"You are a half breed," Lt. Lief said suddenly, as Grigory innocently splashed around the river with his feet. He had raised his arms lightly, making his shirt ride up with them and revealing, quite by accident, the vestigial ridges that ran from his shoulder blades to his lower back. _

_And as suddenly, the boy's cheerful laughter stopped, his shoulders tensed and his beautiful blue eyes turned crimson. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around, his sharp teeth bared towards Lief. _

_"You will keep silent," he ordered softly, his voice deepening from his childish trill into an adult baritone. "I've worked too hard to get where I am and you won't stop me." _

_With purposeful steps he stalked towards the man, who, out of fear or pride, he didn't know, stood his ground, his hand fisted on his wand. _

_"I know you want Kostya for your own," the boy hissed, standing on his toes to reach the Lieutenant's ear. "You always have, and always will. But he is mine now, and I'm not letting him go so easily."_

_"You sick monster," Lief hissed back, finding himself unable to move his arms, to push the beast away. "What are you?"_

_Grigory laughed, an insane and high pitched sound of glee that froze the man's blood. _

_"I am your new master, little Lief," he said simply. "You will be mine too, and will carry my stain in your family for all times." _

_Lief wanted to protest, so cry out for help, but he was being enveloped by a red haze that dulled everything around him but the beautiful creature staring lustfully at him. _

_"Come to me and surrender," the little boy seemed to say and Lief couldn't think of an excuse not to do so. With a wide, lustful smile, he wrapped his arms around the small waist and hoisted the boy up, fusing their lips together and plundering his sweet mouth with his tongue. _

_And instantly Lief knew what kind of creature he was dealing with._

_But it suddenly wasn't all that important. _

_---- _

_"I want a birthday, Daddy!" Grigory said suddenly, out of the blue. Konstantin smiled indulgently as he read parchment after parchment of strategies. From his usual post at the door, Lief smiled gently. _

_Grigory was so cute. _

_"A birthday, baby?" the blond asked, his smile widening when the boy nodded enthusiastically. _

_"I read that everyone had a birthday and presents and cake and I want my own birthday, Daddy!" he pouted, blowing his black bangs from his forehead. _

_Konstantin laughed, caressing the boy's soft hair. _

_"Well then, what about today?" he asked. "Today will be Grigory's birthday." _

_The boy's eyes widened as he beamed happily and leaned in to kiss his Konstantin deeply, their tongues battling for dominance. _

_"Thank you, Daddy!" he grinned, his teeth shinning under the candle light. "I have a birthday!!" _

_Lief and Konstantin stared at eachother for a moment, both smiling. _

_"What would you like as a present, Grigory?" asked Lief, his eyes alit with desire. _

_The boy stopped his childish dancing and stared at them, his pout thoughtful. _

_"I want…" he mused. "I want the whore with the horrible glass eyes!" he beamed finally, surprising Lief and amusing Konstantin. _

_"A prostitute, darling?" he asked lightly. The boy nodded. _

_"Yes, she prances around the castle," he explained. "The one with blond hair that is always sneering. I don't like the way she looks at me." _

_And suddenly both men understood to whom their little lover was talking about. _

_By the time Irivna realized she was going to die her hands had been chewed off by an overly eager boy with razor-sharp teeth and a maniacal laughter that would ring inside her ears long after her eyes had been pulled from her skull. _

_"Try to look down on me now!" the boy giggled happily, chewing onto one of the cold eyes with glee. "Try to touch me now!" _

_And his bare feet crushed her severed hands. _

_And while Karkaroff laughed and applauded his little love for a job well done, Lief felt hesitant and sickened by such display of animalistic madness. _

_But then those red eyes were on him again and the haze was so strong and the sweetness on that bloodied smile made his cock throb with desire. _

_And everything Grigory wanted he could get, as long as those ruby lips wrapped around him soon. _

_"NO!"_

_---- _

"NO!" Harry cried suddenly, his eyes wide. Hermione and Ron fell onto the floor with the impact of his friend's distressed scream. "I don't want to watch anymore!"

_"Dad, are you ok?"_ Albus asked, sounded concerned.

Harry shook his head.

"What is happening here, son!" he yelled. "That's a child, a demon! What on earth is happening!!"

"Maybe we should stop," suggested Ron, looking a little ill.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "We came here to help Harry. I know it's painful, but you must see and learn!"

"You don't understand," sobbed Harry. "He's a child! And a demon! All the atrocities!!"

"That's not a child, Harry!" Hermione snapped. "I was researching on him when he killed me! He's an hybrid, a incubus!"

Ron and Harry stared at the woman, their eyes wide.

"What?" asked Ron weakly.

"He's controlling you both with sex, it's his nature," she explained.

_"He doesn't love me?"_ whispered Harry, his eyes wide.

_"Dad, if you don't finish the memory you might be in danger of melding with it. You will be both!" _Albus warned.

_"He has to love me…"_ Harry whimpered, hands trembling as their curled into fists.

_"I'm sorry, Uncle, Aunt, I'm going ahead now,"_ warned Albus. Ron and Hermione nodded mutely, their eyes fixed onto their friend who was struggling between his self and the one he had been almost a century ago.

_---_

_Grigory turned his head as Lief and Konstantin shook their heads dazedly, almost as if they were coming out of a dream. _

_"I'm going to play outside," he said happily. _

_Konstantin nodded mutely, a small smile curling his lips. _

_"Just tell me you love me and you can go, baby," he said softly, wrapping both arms around the boy's back. _

_Grigory grinned, jumping into his Daddy's lap and dragging his ass over his thighs as he approached his chest, a smirk twisting his lips when the blond man gasped. _

_"I love you, Daddy," he said resolutely, locking his crimson eyes with Konstantin's blue ones. "I love you like I love air and blood and the smell of you. And I will love you for as long as you want me to love you." _

_"What if I want you to love me forever?" he asked cheekily. _

_The boy smiled. _

_"Then I will love you forever, in secret, openly, until I die and be born again, and then maybe, if you want my love you will be able to ask for it." _

_Konstantin's arms tightened around Grigory, not from any form of possessiveness, but from the intensity of his feelings upon hearing those words. Something inside of him had been waiting forever for them, he knew. _

_None of them realized the moment that Lief's eyes narrowed in jealousy, nor the way his fists clenched and unclenched. _

_------- _

_"My Lord," Lief said respectfully, kneeling before Grindewall. "Karkaroff is on his way from Britain, with news about the cloak." _

_The blond dark wizard grinned, twirling his wand on his fingers. _

_"Was there any problem?" he asked idly. Lief shook his head. _

_"He says he ran into Dumbledore for a while, but managed to dodge him," he informed. "Although there is a rumour spreading in the upper circles, My Lord. They say Dumbledore has offered shelter for all Incubus and Incubus around the continent."_

_"One can only imagine what is my perverted little Albus thinking," sighed Gellert, his eyes narrowed. _

_"Sir, if you would allow, I would like to research on the matter, maybe find a way to turn the monsters against Dumbledore?" _

_The blond raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting. _

_"That would be quite an interesting research, Lt. Lief," he said amusedly. "Do proceed."_

_Lief nodded and left as fast as he could. He needed to find a way to have his pretty baby all to himself. _

_---- _

_That night Grigory was bouncing up and down on Konstantin's lap when Lief entered the room. The boy was moaning in abandon as he held onto the hands crushing his hips. _

_Konstantin stared at his Lieutenant with wide eyes, not stopping his mad thrusting. _

_"Lt. Lief?" he asked breathlessly. Lief grinned, his eyes mad. _

_"Recognize this, Karkaroff?" he asked, holding a little glass bottle on his hand. _

_Grigory shrieked, his eyes set on the little colored bottle. _

_Konstantin raised an eyebrow. _

_"That thing?" he asked, running his fingers over the boy's thighs. "Count Durmstrang had it around his neck."_

_"And you took it from him when you killed him, didn't you?" Lief asked. _

_Konstantin shrugged. _

_"So?" _

_"Grigory, dear, explain to Daddy what this bottle is?" he said sweetly. _

_The boy was shivering, his eyes wide. _

_"That bottle holds my insides," he whimpered. "Master, will let Grigory go?" _

_Lief shook his head, his eyes narrowed. _

_"Come here, my little one," he ordered, smirking as the boy stood without even looking at Konstantin and crawled on his hands and knees towards Lief, resting his head on the man's boot. _

_"What is the meaning if this!" Konstantin snapped, his wand pointed right between Lief's eyes. _

_"Whoever has this little thing here is Grigory's master, isn't that right, my little Incubus?" he sneered, nudging the boy's head with the tip of his shoe. "Who do you love, Grigory?" _

_"You, Daddy, I love you," the boy whispered happily, his eyes full of devotion. _

_"Would you do anything for me, Grigory precious?" Lief asked viciously, his eyes locked with Konstantin's own. _

_"Anything, Daddy, I love you." _

_"You will love me for all times, you might die and be reborn, Grigory, but you will still love me then," Lief sentenced, holding the bottle into his fist. "And to seal our little pact, why don't you kill General Karkaroff over here? He is no longer needed." _

_"Baby…" Konstantin said slowly, his eyes wide. But the boy's eyes had gone dull and his mouth slack. _

_"Yes, Daddy, as you wish," he muttered. Both men stared as the little ridges lining the boy's back grew to become dangerous spikes and his little ears extended and curles, his fangs sharpened and his claws darkened and suddenly it was more than obvious to them that this creature was the real Grigory. _

_Konstantin and Lief couldn't help but think he looked glorious. _

_With a roar, Grigory jumped onto the bed, his claws extended to sink onto Konstantin's neck. Blood splattered all over the room to the chorus of Lief's and Grigory's maniacal laughter. _

_-----_

When Harry and the others came to this time, Harry was on top of Ron, his hands curling around the redhead's neck.

"He's MINE! HE WAS MINE BEFORE! HE'S ALWAYS BEEN MINE!" he shrieked hysterically. Under him, Ron struggled for air, his face purpling and swelling rapidly.

"That's ok!" he gasped, trying to pry Harry's hands from his neck.

"HARRY!" yelled Hermione, jumping onto her best friend. "Calm down, it's over, Harry!"

Harry's green eyes widened as he stared at his best friends. Instantly he pulled away from them and curled into a corner, hugging his knees to his chest.

"What the hell is wrong with me!" he cried. "I killed you both, I enjoyed every second of it!"

Hermione helped Ron to his feet, her face puzzled.

"What do you mean?" she asked, caressing her husband's bruised neck gently. "I thought Ron was the one who."

"I was Konstantin Karkaroff," Ron grumbled, coughing. "He took Grigory from me."

"I didn't mean to, I was trying to protect you at first, I loved you," Harry rambled. "But then he did something, and I could only think of him, could only be with him. It was almost like back in Japan. He had to be mine."

"He must have been using his allure on you both the whole time, for you not to see his real appearance," Hermione mussed outloud, her eyes narrowed. "The only one that saw him as he really looked was Count Durmstrang, who took him in the first time."

"Count Durmstrang?" Ron asked. "I barely remember him."

"You wouldn't," she said. "I researched him, he took Grigory under his wing from the moment of his conception and was taking care of him as a… paternal figure. When Grigory said he was starved, he meant Count Durmstrang wouldn't have sex with him."

"The same person that has been following him around all this lives?" Harry asked softly. "The slave that got Caedyrn out, Hanako-san, Marcel?"

Hermione nodded.

"That same person has been following, or rather, your elusive little boyfriend for a while," she said. "My guess is that we actually know who this person is, we have seen him or her and that's why Albus and Scorpius are avoiding the issue."

"Albus?" Harry snapped.

_"… Don't ask me, Dad, please,"_ the young man whispered sadly._ "Yes, I can see how you all look like, and yes, I know who you have been… courting, but please don't ask me." _

"Why?" questioned Ron. "Is it Voldemort?"

_"No, not that bad, but…" _Albus swallowed thickly._ "We've already seen what happened. And Daddy, you will see who this person is on your next travel. It might scare you." _

Harry swallowed too, Albus only called him Daddy when he was nervous or scared. And for his twenty five year old son to be scared, he couldn't even imagine.

"Take us there, Albus, this one is the last one before I was born, right?" Harry sighed. "Let's get this over with."

**To be Continued. **


	5. Chapter 5

_From the moment he was born, Grigory was a constant presence by his side. His nanny when he was a baby, his playmate when he was a kid. Dearest Merlin, Grigory taught him everything he had wanted to know while growing up. _

_Sometimes he wondered what he had done to deserve such perfection. _

"_You ordered my love and devotion, Master," Grigory said when he asked him, his impish smile widening as he rubbed his cheek against his naked thighs. He was twelve at the time, but had never felt such love before. _

_From what he had gathered through the years, he was Grigory's last Master and had, as a last resource, ordered him to wait for his rebirth to continue their life together when he died. _

_  
Smart, if he had to say so himself. _

_He was proud of himself. _

_He was sixteen when it happened._

_Sixteen and in love with his immortal imp. _

_They had spent the whole summer together, enjoying each other and their solitude. Stephan was always alone, but he didn't actually mind. His parents were off with their Lord, away in a secret mission to clean out their world. _

_They were heroes. _

"_Maybe someday I'll be a hero like them too," Stephan used to think, running his hand absently through Grigory's dark hair. "And you'll be by my side, won't you?"_

"_Always, master, Grigory loves you," the little boy grinned, his razor-sharp teeth glinting under the summer sun. _

_So happy, they were. _

_Which made going back to Hogwarts all the more difficult. _

_Each year he had to go back to that a cursed place to try and socialize with those imbeciles that called themselves elite, try and gain their trust while his stomach turned and his lips fought to curl in distaste. _

_Who cared if Malfoy ran the school as he pleased?_

_  
Who cared if the Dark Lord had his eyes on him? On that reject Snape? _

_He was Stephan Wilkes, for Merlin's sake. He was special. _

_If only Grigory could go to Hogwarts with him he would show them. He would show them all._

_He was the Wilkes heir and he was the best. _

_No one would be able to go over him with Grigory by his side. Not even the Dark Lord himself!_

_But Dumbledore would kill Grigory if he saw him, or so his father warned him. Dumbledore knew him and what he had done the last time he was involved. _

"_The old man," Grigory had said softly, curled by his side. "He was jealous I slept with his lover, the blond one. I know." _

_And Stephan loathed the old wizard, because he had known Grigory even when Stephan hadn't been around. _

_Because he was a threat to their happiness. _

"_You will always love me, won't you?" he asked as September came and he was forced to abandon his little love. _

_  
The boy nodded enthusiastically, his eyes bright with tears. _

"_I will always love you, Master," he whimpered, wrapping his thin arms tightly around Stephan's waist. "Please don't love anyone else! Love Grigory always!"_

"_I won't," he assured, his eyes wet. "I promise I'll always love you."_

_With a firm hand, his father forced him into the train while his mother held the little imp back. He knew some students whispered among each other about the Wilkes' little son, the one that should come to them to school but always staid behind. _

_He didn't care about their gossip, he still stared through the window until Grigory and his parents were out of sight, and his love remained in his mind through the year. As he counted the days from their next reunion. _

_----- _

"_Some say you've got a squib for a brother, Wilkes," Black hissed, her eyes narrowed in disgust. "I wonder why your parents haven't done the world a favor and gotten rid of that waste of space."_

_He continued to read, staring at the younger girl from the corner of his eye. _

_She was ugly, the only Black child that had not inherited their family's grace of talent. _

"_Bella," a blond girl said gently. "Leave Wilkes alone." _

_  
Of course, beautiful Narcissa to the rescue, always making sure her sister didn't bite more than she could chew. One would think she had learnt her lesson from her little escapade with Malfoy. But, as Stephan knew, some little bitches never learnt. _

"_Go bother someone at your own level, Black," he said simply, his eyes never straying from his book. "I heard Snape got into another fight with your cousin. Maybe he could entertain you." _

_  
"How dare you, Wilkes!" _

_A heavy hand landed on the enraged girl's shoulder while the tip of a wand made its way to her forehead. _

"_You heard him, Black," Rossier hissed. "Go away." _

_Both Black sisters huffed before leaving the Common Room. Most likely Snape would get a hard time for this, unless Malfoy was with him. _

_He idly hoped that was the case. Seeing Bellatrix Black defeated and humiliated was always a sight to remember. _

"_Still reading, Wilkes?" Rossier asked, sitting by his side. His girlfriend, Callahan, standing faithfully behind him. _

"_There's nothing else to do, is there?" he said simply. "I like to learn, it empowers me." _

"_Knowledge is power, right," Rossier rolled his eyes. Stephan never understood why Rossier and Callahan thought they were friends. He had certainly never made an effort to approach them. Yet they insisted to cling to him like they were childhood comrades. _

_He felt thankful to an extent. The months in Hogwarts would be unbearable without their senseless chatter to make him less anxious for home. _

"_Thinking about your boyfriend again?" asked Callahan, her long black hair falling into her face. She wasn't ugly per se, yet she always hid behind her hair. Maybe that's what kept boys away from her. Boys surely, but certainly not Evan. _

"_Have you heard the rumors?" Rossier asked, his face lighting with a grin. "The Dark Lord is recruiting away. Maybe this year we will get picked!" _

"_Not an appropriate conversation for the Common Room, Rossier," he said absently, passing a page. "You never know who could be hearing."_

_Callahan laughed softly. _

_Rossier rolled his eyes. _

"_Is that the reason you are so tight-lipped about yourself?" he asked. "You never tell us much about your life back home."_

"_Only about your little boyfriend," the girl supplied, sitting in front of them on the carpet. "Don't think we haven't noticed he hasn't aged a year since the day you came to Hogwarts."_

"_Yes, Wilkes," said another voice. "Do tell us."_

_All three turned to see Lucius Malfoy, the Slytherin King himself, leaning casually by the door. Snape behind him, as always. _

"_I don't believe that is any of your business," he replied lowly. Grigory was his and not about to be shared with anyone. _

"_Come on," Rossier said, his eyes glinting. Malfoy waved his wand and conjured two seats for him and Snape. _

"_You might raise something of interest for the Dark Lord," he said, sitting gracefully. _

_Stephan frowned. _

_The Dark Lord? He obviously admired the Pure Blooded hero set into returning the world to their rightful owners._

_  
Who didn't?_

_Everyone in Slytherin would cut their wand arm off to get the Dark Lord's attention. _

_And of course they all knew Malfoy was set to succeed his father as the Lord's right hand man as soon as he graduated that year. _

_Maybe he could score some points now and, as soon as he graduated, he would be recruited. _

_His parents would be so proud. _

_Grigory would be so happy. _

_He wouldn't have to be his dirty little secret anymore. _

_He sighed and closed his book. _

"_His name is Grigory, he's an incubus," he began. "He was with me the moment I was born. I'm his master..." _

_Throughout the night, he told his comrades about his little love and what he could do, while his mind easily conjured scenarios of victory and fame for himself and his beloved. _

_Malfoy and the others listened intently, their eyes wide in surprise. _

_None of them noticed Professor Slughorn's horrified eyes as he listened into their conversation. _

_----- _

_It happened a month later. He could even remember the date._

_Somewhere between the middle of term and exams. _

_He was lying in bed, reading something his mother had sent when stabbing agony pierced his chest. It was hot, then cold, so sharp and powerful. Immediately Stephan knew something was wrong. His mind filled with images of light and fire and his own home, surrounded by Aurors. _

_  
Wands pointed at his parents as they fought for their survival. _

_Then a figure emerged between the Aurors. All colorful robes and wise eyes. _

_Dumbledore was at his home?_

_Without even bothering with his parents, the old wizard entered his bedroom, his eyes hard. _

"_Old man!" Grigory cried, hiding behind his bed. His room was in flames, he could tell, and Grigory was scared. _

"_You," the man hissed, his wand raising with intent. _

"_Don't hurt Grigory, please!" the imp begged, his eyes wide. "Grigory just wants master! Grigory has been a good boy!!" _

_Dumbledore stopped. _

"_What are you doing here?" he asked. "The house is on fire, you should get out."_

_Grigory shook his head, his eyes were wide, full of fright. _

"_Master ordered I waited for him in his room," he whimpered, clutching a pillow to his chest. "Grigory is a good boy, so I wait for Master's return." _

_Something in the little boy's eyes seemed to beg Dumbledore. He wanted to leave the house. He wanted to live. _

_Dumbledore let out a cold chuckle, something that froze Stephan's blood. _

"_You can't leave the room without orders, can't you?" he said, shrugging. "A shame." _

"_You can ask Master for order, right?" Grigory sobbed. "Grigory is afraid." _

_Dumbledore seemed to falter for a second, staring at him. Then, he shook his head. _

"_You used that trick on Gellert too, didn't you?" he said, turning around. "I will only say what I told him the last time we saw each other I will pray for your soul and hope that the next time we meet you shall receive a second chance at happiness." _

_Without another word, Dumbledore left the house. Some Aurors asked him whether there was someone else at the house as they pulled the Wilkes from their manor and House elves apparatus away. _

_  
The old man shook his head. _

"_No one," he said. "The son is back at Hogwarts." _

_Grigory wailed as the flames started to lick his skin. He called out Stephan's name and cursed Dumbledore's, promising him revenge. _

_He continued to rave as the fire started to consume his feet, his little fist banged on the door as his voice rose higher and higher in hysteria. _

_Then, he grew silent. _

_Stephan woke up to a cold sweat and Rossier's concerned face over his own. _

"_You were screaming in your sleep," he explained, his eyes concerned. _

"_Something happened at my home," he said weakly. "My parents, Grigory." _

"_Malfoy came with an owl from his father," Rossier said. "The Aurors came to your house, killed your parents and burned the place down." _

_Stephan knew that Evan was saying something else, something about revenge and the Dark Lord and how his parents were heroes, but he could only think about Grigory, his little love, his imp. _

_Gone. _

_His fists clenched tightly, his eyes narrowed. _

"_Dumbledore," he hissed, grabbing his wand. _

_----- _

_Before he knew it he was in Azkaban. He had tried to get his revenge on Dumbledore and failed. _

_Now he only had to wait for the dementors to take his soul so he could finally reunite with his Grigory. The war had come and he was locked in, unable to fight for what he believed in. _

_Not that it mattered really. _

_Everything he had ever loved was gone. Nothing would be the same again. _

_Mrs. Black, the powerful matriarch of the Black family raved from her own cell, wailing that her Lord would not change her for one of her own daughters, and that he would come for her any second. Stephan shook his head and continued to stare through his little window. _

_When were the Dementors going to give him the kiss? _

_The sooner he died, the sooner he would be reunited with his Grigory. _

"_Oh, Wilkes," whispered a gentle voice. Slowly, Stephan raised his face and found Narcissa Malfoy standing by his cell, her eyes full of pity. _

"_Cissy, dear," whimpered Mrs. Black from her own cell and the blond woman approached her instantly. _

_Stephan wondered why would that wisp of a girl be of any importance to him, but she was like a splash of color in his now dulled world. She had something, she meant something. He knew it. _

"_... and that's what's happening, mother," Narcissa narrated, her hands caressing her mother's through the bars of her cell. "Lucius and I plan to have a baby soon. Maybe by next spring." _

"_An heir to our family," Mrs. Black hissed happily. "Wonderful my child, wonderful! You need to restore our honorable family to its grandeur!" _

_The young woman nodded, pity clear in her eyes. Her mother seemed not to hear her as she went on and on about how their lord would love such wonderful news. _

"_You must name your child as tradition dictates, 'Cissy," the woman said, her bony fingers pointing through her window at the stars. _

"_Lucius wanted to name our child after his grandfather Augustus," the blond said. The old woman shrieked. _

"_YOU SHALL DO NO SUCH THING!" she said, pulling her own hair. "THIS CHILD WILL BE A BLACK!! HE SHALL RECIEVE A NAME LIKE A BLACK'S!" _

_Narcissa sighed, nodding her head. _

_Suddenly Stephan was interested. It was almost like a sign from heaven, something whispering in his ear with Grigory's sweet voice. _

"_I'm here, Stephan," it seemed to say. "I shall come back to you from this woman." _

"_Draconis, then," Narcissa said absently "Draconis Malfoy." _

"_Good, my love, good," Walpurga Black hissed, her hand caressing her daughter's now. "The Dark Lord shall be pleased."_

_Oh, Stephan could almost imagine the future. Draconis Malfoy was such a beautiful name for his little one. _

_As an auror escorted Narcissa out of Azkaban, he lunged to her and grabbed her arm. _

"_Narcissa!" he gasped to her, his other hand instantly going to her stomach. "Take care of my Draconis, he is my little love. My only love. You must be a good mother to him or I shall rip your head from your body!!" he threatened. _

_The Auror tried to stun him unsuccessfully, Narcissa screamed in fright._

_A tall man dressed in black came into his line of sight and casted a curse Stephan didn't recognize. _

_All he felt from then on was pain as his skin ripped open and blood pooled under his knees. Recognition lit his eyes finally as he fell to the floor. _

"_S... nape," he gurgled out as the man took Narcissa in his arms protectively. _

_More aurors filled his cell as his world became dark, the last thing he heard as they pointed their wands at him and Dementors followed were Narcissa's whispered thanks to Snape and how she swore her son would be Snape's godchild, in retribution. _

_----------- _

When Harry opened his eyes, he was back in Albus' and Scorpius' office. Ron and Hermione were sitting by his side, their arms around him. Their eyes wide in shock.

"Are you ok, mate?" Ron said softly.

Harry shook his head.

"I don't think so," he whimpered. "This was..."

Hermione then ran her fingers through his hair soothingly just as Albus came to into his sight. He had a cup of tea in his hands.

"You knew it was him?" he asked weakly. His son nodded slowly.

"Scorpius and I treated Mr. Malfoy some years ago," he explained guiltily. "We saw you two, we saw what happened."

"Caedyrn, Etsuji-kun, Jean Luke, Grigory... all this time it was him?"

The young man nodded once more.

"He said he had known you were special since the moment he saw you, that he had wanted to be by your side all those years, but you kept pushing him away. He felt betrayed, scared... and then the war came."

And Harry understood.

When he had first seen Malfoy he had felt a connection, something that forced him to acknowledge the blond. But he was so hurtful, so vicious. He couldn't possibly accept such a brat.

Malfoy was a bully, then a Death Eater, and then he had hidden inside his manor not to be seen or heard of again, someone he could have easily dismissed after the war.

Yet, every time their eyes met on the streets, every time the Prophet managed to dig something of him and his family, Harry was glued to the papers, he couldn't ignore him.

They were tied by destiny, by fate.

They had sinned and loved each other for so long.

How could he have been so blind.

Shakily, he stood and took his wand.

"I need to talk to him," he said softly. Ron and Hermione stood then, their eyes frantic.

"Harry, are you insane? You are in no condition to-" Hermione tried to say, but Harry cut her off.

"I need to see him," he stuttered. "Make everything right!"

"Mate, it's Malfoy we are talking about! You have to let him go!" Ron snapped. "You two have hurt each other too much!"

"I NEED HIM!" Harry screamed. "All this years I've felt incomplete! Lonely! I need him! I need to apologize!"

Albus opened his mouth, his eyes downcast, but Harry didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to hear his son join his best friends and try to stop him. He had to talk to Malfoy NOW.

Without a second thought he waved his wand lightly and apparated straight to Malfoy Manor.

This feud between Malfoy and himself ended right there.

He was instantly greeted by Astoria Greengrass, Malfoy's wife. And Harry felt hatred so deep run through him as she saw her. She was the one that had taken Draco from him. She was the one to share his bed every night, to give him a son to be proud of, to protect him and embrace him and love him.

She didn't deserve him.

The woman looked at him tiredly, her eyes bloodshot.

"I was wondering how long you would take to come here, Potter," she said simply, her shoulders tense. "When my son came home and told me you had undergone astral healing I knew you would come."

"Where is he," he hissed, clenching his hand over his wand. It would take so little to snap the life out of her.

Draco and he would be together.

Astoria ran a hand through her long blond hair and shook her head.

"In the gardens, Scorpius is there with him."

"You are not going to get between us again, are you?" he snapped, eyes narrowed "Like you did all those lifetimes ago?"

The woman shook her head.

"That wasn't me, Mr. Potter," she explained. "The Gaul, Lady Hanako, Monsieur Marcel, Count Durmstrang, that wasn't me all those centuries ago."

"Then how do you know those names!" the man growled, ready to throw and unforgivable curse at the hag, to hell with the consequences

"My husband told me all about him, about that man that tortured him once, made him suffer and then promised him his life and protection. The one that will always look out for him. You knew him too, once. My husband's godfather, Professor Snape?"

Harry nodded.

It made sense, in a way, the man always tried to keep them apart, and the tenderness he held Draco with every time they were together.

Harry should have known it was that bastard.

"Don't get in our way," he threatened and ran to the gardens, he didn't care that Astoria was shaking her head at him as he ran. She could think whatever she liked.

He found Scorpius first. He was sitting by an old tree, his knees hugged to his chest as tears ran down his face. As soon as the young man saw him, however, he stood and wiped his face clean with his sleeve.

"Mr. Potter," he said. "You shouldn't be here, your mind has not stabilized from all the memories from your past li-"

"Where is he!" Harry interrupted, eyes wild. "We need to talk! We need to get everything clear, everything has to..."

Scorpius' hand stopped his words as it pointed gracefully towards his back.

Harry frowned, then paled.

Behind Scorpius, there was no Draco.

Only headstones.

"No," he whimpered. The blond young man nodded sadly.

"It happened a year ago," he whispered. "A man caught us both in Diagon Alley, said something about retribution for the war and hit father with the killing curse."

Harry stumbled to his knees, his eyes set on one single marble headstone.

Draconis Augustus Malfoy

1981 – 2030

Beloved father, husband and son.

May your soul finally find the peace you deserve.

"Draco..." Harry whimpered, unable to believe his eyes. After all they had gone through. After all the fighting, all the mistakes and pain. Just as they were ready to be together, ready to love each other.

This happened?

It wasn't fair!

"He died with your name in his lips, Mr. Potter," Scorpius said softly. "He used to say he hoped you two could meet one day, without all your past between you two."

Harry could hardly hear him against the raging in his ears and the twisting inside his chest. He was ready to accept, to forgive and beg for forgiveness. He was ready to look into the eyes of the person he had loved for almost a thousand years and let himself go.

And that person was no longer there.

"Mr. Potter, you need to come back inside with me," Scorpius said softly. "You are too strung from the session, you need to sit down and let your mind stabilize itself before you hurt yourself."

He tried to reach for Mr. Potter's arm, but the man was father, he jumped out of his reach and lunged himself at Draco's tomb, a wail of pure despair tore out of his throat as he clung to the headstone and cried. It broke Scorpius' heart to see Mr. Potter like that, almost as much as the knowledge that his father didn't have enough time to find happiness in this life.

"All this time I thought I was doing the right thing," Harry whimpered hoarsely. "I was the good guy, Malfoy was the bad guy. I wasted so much time. So many opportunities.. I was the bad guy then, I let him suffer and I..."

"Mr. Potter..." Scorpius pleaded, walking towards him. "Sir, please, your mind..."

"I was the enemy, Scorpius, I pushed everything that reminded me of him away, I hated you so much, because you look like him... I couldn't stand the thought that Albus could be happy with you... because I wasn't happy with him! I'm the enemy. I'm my own worst enemy," he kept rambling, his hand running carefully over the marble.

"Sir..."

"For enemies only," he whispered suddenly. His eyes light. "Snape was right, enemies..."

Scorpius couldn't move fast enough, and it would haunt him for the rest of his days as he saw Harry raise his wand towards his own chest and mutter "Sectum Sempra". He instantly started bleeding as cuts teared his skin.

The blond called out for help, for Albus, for his mother.

But none of them knew the counter curse.

Harry James Potter died that same day, his hands clutching Draco Malfoy's headstone.

Albus cried in Scorpius' arms.

Astoria stared impassively. Somehow she knew this would be the outcome.

Ron and Hermione would remember Harry's peaceful face for the rest of their lives, and would look for him in every child they had from the on.

The world mourned Harry Potter until the very thought of him equaled Albus Dumbledore, and his image was the one of a chocolate frog card.

None of them would ever remember the reason for his death, nor the person he sought so ardently.

--------

"But father!" cried a little boy, no older than six. "Why do I have to go? I wanted to stay with Aunt Victorie!"

"Orion Draconis Malfoy," sighed Scorpius tiredly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Your father worked himself half to death to finish up this potion and I have to take care of him. Surely you can be a good boy and deliver it before it spoils!"

The little blond, Orion, pouted lightly, not happy with the situation. But he had seen his Daddy's tired face and the way his father swayed on his feet when he thought no one saw him. They were both exhausted and Aunt Victorie, his godmother and favorite aunt in the world had come from her own house to look after them.

He really could do this little favor for them.

"Fine!" he sulked, snatching the potion from his father's hand. "But then Aunt Victorie will take me flying?"

The woman smiled gently and kissed his forehead.

She was so pretty, no wonder she was Orion's favorite aunt.

"Sure, little one, I promise."

Orion squealed happily and ran towards the fireplace. He was a big boy, of course, and his parents let him floo by himself.

"I'll be back in a minute!" he cried as he disappeared in the flames, completely missing his father's devious smirk and Aunt Victorie's giggles.

It was Uncle Ted that greeted him on the other side. Orion never liked him, really. He was old. Too old for beautiful Aunt Victorie. And his hair was funny, it changed colors like a rainbow and he was a werewolf like his own father had been, and while his Daddy told him time and time again that Uncle Ted was harmless, Orion knew he must be a monster and Aunt Victorie was a princess he kept captive.

One of these days he would rescue her and they would ride off to the sunset.

"Orion!" Uncle Ted greeted him with a tired smile. Last night there was a full moon and Orion knew he must have tired himself with his transformation and all. "So glad you are here!"

Orion nodded, handing him one of the vials in his hands.

"Father said you had to drink it all in one gulp, Uncle," he said haughtily Not comfortable around his Uncle.

The man nodded and downed the potion, making a face.

"Tell your daddy to do something for the taste, please," he complained.

Orion frowned.

"Daddy always says that adding sugar to the potion will spoil it, silly," he defended, as it was usual.

Uncle Ted nodded, laughing.

"Can you take the other vial to Will's room, please? He had a little mishap last night, we think he might have the curse too, or some of it."

Orion nodded, still frowning.

He wanted to explore the house, as it was the first time he was there, and of course, Aunt Victorie's and Uncle Ted's sickly son was not as interesting as Aunt Victorie's bedroom or the garden!

"Sure," he sighed, stalking towards a white door his Uncle pointed.

Stupid adults, always too busy to pay attention to his own needs.

Granny Astoria would have a fit if she heard of this.

He would explore as soon as he threw the potion down the brat's throat. How come the little snot didn't leave the house? Surely no child could be that sick.

He entered the room noisily, dimly making out a huddled form under a mountain of covers.

"Hey, I brought you a potion!" he snapped impatiently, frowning when a pale hand made its way from the covers and took the vial under.

Some minutes later he heard retching and he grew angry.

"Hey!" he growled. "Don't spit it! My Daddy spent hours making that potion!"

"S... sorry," a weak voice whimpered. "It's bad."

"Why are you down there anyway?" he asked, taking some covers in his hands and pulling. "It's noon!"

A red haired head appeared from under all the bedspread, blue eyes blinking tiredly at him.

Orion lost his breath.

"I have a cold," the same weak voice wheezed. "Mummy and Daddy say you shouldn't come too close."

The boy was so small, smaller than Orion himself, and his skin was so pale, as pale as Aunt Victorie's, but prettier, so much prettier.

"Are you Will?" Orion asked suddenly, climbing into the bed to take a closer look.

The redhead nodded.

"My name is William, you shouldn't call me Will, only Daddy does that," he said softly, his cheeks tinted with pink. "Who are you, anyway?"

Orion puffed out his chest proudly.

"I'm Orion Malfoy, and you are my bride."

Pale blue eyes widened as the redhead stared in surprise.

"Your... bride? But I'm a boy!" he protested.

"So? My parents are both boys and they are married!" he said, taking William's hand in his own. "And Aunt Victorie is my godmother, she said you could marry me."

Will blinked.

"She did?" he asked.

"Of course she did!" Orion lied, letting his hand run through Will's soft hair. He was perfect in every way.

"Oh... ok, if you say so," he said finally, giving his now-fiancée a shy smile. "Please take care of me."

"Forever," Orion promised, returning that smile. Something inside of him felt like he had finally found what he had been looking for.

The one person that completed him.

And as Will laid back down in bed and prompted Orion to do the same, he knew he would never have to let go of that small hand in his.

Not for the world.

Outside, Ted Lupin gawked as his wife and her school friends Albus and Scorpius told him about their little plan and how all astral charts seemed to point out that their little Will, their angel, was destined to be with that snotty brat Orion, and how it was meant to be.

And as all grown ups stared into the boy's room, Orion laid down with Will and fell into a peaceful slumber.

Complete, at last.

The End.


End file.
